


La Clarté

by ysaintlorraine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Case Fic, Crimes & Criminals, Dark Magic, F/F, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Identity Reveal, M/M, Minor Luna Lovegood/Pansy Parkinson, Minor Violence, Mystery, Not Epilogue Compliant, Pansy Parkinson is a Good Friend, Pansy Parkinson is tired of the trio's shit, Peacocks, Post-War, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 56,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25833763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ysaintlorraine/pseuds/ysaintlorraine
Summary: The Ministry of Magic was alerted to a huge explosion at the Malfoy Manor. Auror Harry Potter arrives at the scene to find out that Draco Malfoy is missing. Harry spends the next years trying to figure out where he is."The three of you always thought you were better than him. Braver? Probably. Smarter? Debatable. But the lot of you will never be half the wizard that he is. Especially not you, Oh Great Savior."
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 50
Kudos: 279





	1. Determination

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I read a fic prompt on Tumblr and I couldn't get it off my mind so I had to write it!
> 
> Link: https://drarry-prompt-zone.tumblr.com/post/612577591837212672/cant-get-this-out-of-my-head
> 
> Tumblr (where I got the prompt): [ drarry-prompt-zone ](http://drarry-prompt-zone.tumblr.com)
> 
> I changed the title from "I like that you're lonely (lonely like me)" to the French word for "clarity". I feel like a shorter title would fit this fic better.

Smoke.

That was the first thing Harry Potter got a whiff of once he arrived at the scene. The scent was so thick and heavy, laced with more than just burning wood and metal that Harry had to shield his nose with his arm. The next thing that caught his attention was the burnt down remains of what once was a grand structure. The only other memory he had of this place was dark. It once loomed ominously as Harry walked to what he thought would be his death just a mere five years ago. He tried to imagine the structure in a bright setting. It would've been beautiful. However, that mental image will never see the light of day as he examined what was left of the house. Blackened rubble was all he could see along with the smoke that was still rising from the heap. Something was flickering and it seems like there is still fire to be extinguished although Harry is not a hundred percent sure.

"Ah, Auror Potter." He heard a muffled voice approach him. He looked up to see a junior Auror he rarely saw in the office. But then again, they had a lot of Aurors, both trainees and regulars alike. They shouldn't expect Harry to know all of their names. "I'm Junior Auror Hector Mulligan. If you would follow me please." The lower half of his face was covered with some sort of decorated cloth, probably transfigured from whatever item was available. Harry decided to do the same and pull out a handkerchief to enlarge it a bit before wrapping it around the lower part of his face the same way his colleague did.

"Have you found out what happened here? Are there any casualties?" Harry inquired. He was well into his lunch of turkey sandwich and a can of soda when his secretary barged into his office, face stoic but eyes holding a slightly alarmed look. She spoke with utmost professionalism as she placed the case file on his desk. "There's been a situation, Auror. Potter. Head Auror Robards specifically asked that you take the lead. Auror Weasley's team is already on their way there but nothing has been confirmed." Ron's team specializes in the Dark Arts seeing as they are part of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. They're called whenever things are tricky because the perpetrators are suspected to be dabbling in dark magic and artefacts. If they're being called in, the situation could be more than just a bit dangerous. Harry, on the other hand, worked as the Head of the Investigation Department. Through the years, it has evolved from being an office that focuses on tracking down dark wizards to actually being more involved in the "investigation" of criminals as a whole. Not just dark wizards.

"No casualties have been reported yet, Auror Potter," His junior informed him. "Auror Weasley is currently investigating the situation along with Unspeakable Granger-Weasley."

Hermione's here? It seems like the Department of Mysteries were also called upon to address whatever has happened on this property. 

"Has the fire been estinguished yet? What about the occupants of the house?" Harry asked, moving towards the open gates. He half-expected to be thrown out or maimed the moment he stepped through but alas, he only felt a weak ripple hit his body. The wards must have been destroyed as well. It makes sense since the aurors wouldn't be able to investigate otherwise. Harry quickly read through the case file before apparating here. Roughly an hour and a half ago, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was alerted to a massive explosion in Wiltshire, specifically in Malfoy Manor. Alarms monitoring the property went off prompting the aurors to rush here.

"The fire is strange, sir. We have been trying to put it out in every way that we know but it's persisting." Mulligan answered. "We suspect Dark Magic. As for the occupants of the house, Draco Malfoy seems to be missing. Although it is likely that he has become a casualty. We still can't know for sure. However, his magical signature is all over the place."

Harry's jaw tensed. A hundred different thoughts were running in his head. Was this intentional? Did Malfoy set fire to his own home and burned down with it? Or did someone else did this? So far, the evidence points at Malfoy being the root cause of the explosion. Harry couldn't rule out anything else unless Malfoy is found alive or declared dead. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration as he approached Ron, who seemed to be in a heated debate with his wife and another auror who Harry recognized as Ron's partner, Auror Perkins.

"Harry!" Hermione said the moment she saw him. Ron and the other auror both turned their heads to him. The three of them filled him in on what they've got so far. 

The explosion's epicenter seemed to have been the basement, judging from rhe large hollow space that could be seen. It wasn't a huge explosion per se but it was loud and powerful enough to take the whole house down. Surprisingly, there are no casualties. The Manor was bar of any living being. The only breathing specimen left on the property were the albino peacocks in the front lawn. They were screeching like mad but two aurors were assigned to take care of them until such a time that their fates would be decided. As Mulligan said, a small fire seemed to burn forever in what once was the West Wing. Hermione still has to inspect it. If anyone can put it out, it would be an Unspeakable like Hermione or just Hermione in general. However, that everlasting fire is not the only strange thing in this situation. 

"Malfoy left his wand." Ron said, holding his hand out to the Auror Perkins who placed a familiar looking wand in his hand. It was the Ministry regulated wand given to Malfoy during the start of his probation. Restrictions were set on it so that the only spells that he could cast were common household spells, nothing too powerful or unnecessary. "We examined the wand and…the spellwork set to regulate is all tattered. It's like it's been ripped apart by sheer force. There was absolutely no attempt to being subtle about it."

"So, are you saying that Malfoy's magic was powerful enough to rip through the regulations set by the Ministry as if they were cotton candy?" Harry perused.

"Exactly." Hermione was the one who spoke this time. She let out a sigh before speaking tensely. "And there's something else too… We checked the last few spells performed on the wand. One of them was Fiendfyre...and the other one before that is the Killing Curse."

"The Killing Curse?!" Harry exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise. "And the Ministry weren't made aware of this? No alarms had set off?"

Hermioned shook her head. For someone to get away with casting two extremely powerful spells – one being an Unforgivable – without alerting the authorities, they have to be equally powerful and discreet. At first glance, this seemed to be a whirl of the moment decision but it's starting to become more complicated than that. Almost like it was planned for a long time.

"We only found out after inspecting the wand itself. I sent a Patronus to the Ministry but they said that the alarms for the regulated wands are still in tact, especially that of Malfoy's." Perkins supplied.

A sudden crack of apparition from behind them disrupted their conversation. The four of them turned to see Pansy Parkinson with her hands slightly held up as Aurors pointed their wands at her. Parkinson did not say a word, instead she resorted to challengingly look at the people apprehending her with a single raised brow. Harry told the Aurors to lower their wands and continue to investigate the house. Parkinson spared them a single haughty look before walking over to where the Malfoy family's peacocks are. Naturally, the trio followed her while Perkins was put in-charge of extinguishing the everlasting fire.

"Why are you here?" Ron inquired, his tone only slightly accusing. Harry could see Parkinson roll her eyes as she gestured for the Aurors to leave the albino peacocks alone.

"I'll take them," She said before letting out a deep sigh. "Draco may be gone but he wouldn't want me to just leave them."

"So, you believe he did this?" Harry asked as Parkinson rounded up the peacocks by conjuring an enclosure. The birds seem to calm down a bit at Parkinson's familiar presence.

"I'm surprised it took him this long to do it," was her reply, inspecting what she created, not paying more than the necessary attention to the trio. "He's been saying that he'll erase what's left of the Malfoys for a long time now…starting with the Manor. Of course, I didn't believe him at first but seeing as we are now standing next to the Manor's rubble…"

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other while Harry just continued to look at the former Slytherin. 

"But how could he?" Hermione broke the awkward silence that was starting to form. "Without a proper wand, the best he could get away with are just cleaning charms."

Parkinson then straightened her posture, assuming a stature that seemed to assert her superiority. She stood with her right leg pointing slightly outward while her arms are crossed over her chest as she stared at the three people in front of her with a sneer.

"You lot always underestimated, Draco." Parkinson spat out coldly. "You always believed the worst in him but never in his abilities. You never took him seriously and I bet that you didn't even believe that he was helping you when he tried. Tell me, did the brightest witch of her age realize who gave her the correct information back in second year? Did you assume that the torn page about the basilisk just came from nowhere? And did the Savior of the Wizarding World even stop to think about why in Morgana's balls would Dobby help you in the first place? How the hell did Dobby even knew about Gillyweed in the first place? I bet it meant nothing to the lot of you that he gave Potter his bloody wand at the end right there. You always underestimated him and he let you so you wouldn't feel bad about it. Poor sod always letting you win." 

By the end of her tirade, the trio were sporting varying degrees of shock and guilt on their faces. The former Slytherin revelled in their expressions despite knowing that Draco wouldn't have wanted her to spill his secrets in broad daylight but the proud and righteous Gryffindors needed to hear it. They needed to hear that they wouldn't have survived and triumphed over their challenges without Draco's help, without the help of the "evil Slytherin git" that they hate.

"I wonder if this will change that," Parkinson continued. "The three of you always thought you were better than him. Braver? Probably. Smarter? Debatable. But the lot of you will never be half the wizard that he is. Especially not you, Oh Great Savior."

Harry knew that he wasn't particularly powerful. His mind flashed back to the final battle between him and Voldemort. He admits that their connection helped in the latter's defeat but it ultimately comes down to Malfoy. Malfoy disarmed Dumbledore in the Astronomy tower back in sixth year, switching the loyalty of the Elder wand to him. Harry took Malfoy's wand in the Manor. Malfoy took it back while they were in the Room of Requirement. Finally, Malfoy tossed his wand to Harry during the final battle, switching back the allegiance of the Elder wand to him which allowed him to survive the duel with Voldemort and to come out triumphant. The Elder wand cannot harm the person to which it is allied to. If Harry had used Hermione's wand, for example, there's no telling what the outcome of the battle could have been. 

Harry sighed and looked at Parkinson. He opened his mouth to say something but she spoke again, cutting whatever he was about to say.

"Draco did this with a Ministry regulated wand, in seconds, and then apparated away without one. Imagine what he could have done throughout the war, good or bad, had he actually tried."

And with that Parkinson turned back to the peacocks. She examined them for a while and huffed. 

"I'll have authorized personnel take them," She said to the trio stiffly. "They'll bear the legal papers you need along with a signed authorization letter from me. In the meantime, you should keep them in the enclosure and wait for my owl."

She was just about to leave when Perkins' voice caught their attention.

"We found something!" 

Immediately, Parkinson rushed to where the voice was coming from with Harry, Ron, and Hermione trailing behind her. They arrived at the burned down West Wing of the Manor where the everlasting fire was. However, the said fire was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a small wooden box was left in its wake. Seeing as it hasn't been reduced to ashes like the rest of the house, the box is probably enchanted. 

"The fire died out on its own," Perkins explained. "I already performed the necessary spells on the box and it's been echanted with a protection spell and a complicated locking charm."

Parkinson immediately stepped forward, walking over to the middle of the rubble to pick up the box. 

"What's she doing here?" Perkins whispered to Ron, who only shrugged in response. Parkinson is breaking a shit ton of protocols by just sauntering into the property but, in all honesty, the trio were far too disturbed with her revelations to care about protocols. Plus, she's Draco's closest friend. If anyone can give them information about his whereabouts, it's her.

"I know this box…" Pansy whispered, more to herself than to the others as she inspected the wooden box. From afar, it looked quite plain but if one looks closely, they will see intricate figures faintly painted all over it. The figures were that of different breeds of dragons. From the Chinese Fireball to the Peruvian Vipertooth. However, amongst all of these legendary beasts adorning the box, two stand out the most. While the other dragons were painted small, their illustrations taking up not more than half of a chocolate frog card, the two dragons in the middle seem to occupy most of the lid's area. Pansy frowned as she stared at the snoring figures of a Hungarian Horntail and an Antipodean Opaleye curled up together. She knew what these breeds were because Draco told her about it. Otherwise, she would be clueless due to the fact that these dragons were painted in the same rusted gold ink like the others. They didn't really stand out from the maroon lacquer of the box itself. 

Knowing what the box was, what the figures on top of it symbolized, and what it may hold, Pansy knew what she had to do. She looked around and spotted a short piece of wood that she transfigured into a simple dagger. 

"Wha--" Weasley, the male one, exclaimed. Pansy felt the four people behind her immediately put their guard up, their hands going to their wand holsters.

"Oh, please." She dismissed their actions with a roll of her eyes before running the blade of the dagger on her palm, cutting the delicate skin and letting the blood ooze out and drip onto the box. She did all of this without flinching, the slight twitch of her brows being the only visible sign of discomfort.

Once her blood touched the box, it sizzled and seeped into the wood. A few moments passed before a click was heard and the box opened on its own.

Letters.

Those were the only items inside the box.

Three letters to be exact. Two of which were addressed to Pansy and the other one was addressed to…

"Harry Potter."

"What?" Harry asked in confusion. He looked at Parkinson, whose hand is now wrapped in a white handkerchief. He could see the blood still seeping through but she doesn't seem to be fazed.

"This one is addressed to you." Parkinson clarified. "I don't know what business you have with Draco for you to warrant a letter but then again, we are yet to find out why hippogriffs fly."

She handed the letter to Harry before putting the other two back in the box and sealing it. She then walked away from the rubble and back onto firm ground.

"Aren't you going to heal that?" Hermioned inquired, gesturing to her bleeding palm.

"Wounds inflicted as sacrifice for blood magic should heal on their own. No healing spell or salve will accelarate the process." Parkinson replied as she turned toward the direction of the gates. "Now, seeing as I have quite a lot of legal matters to take care of, I shall take my leave. Although, I would appreciate it if you inform me of…anything about Draco."

"You mean, you don't know where he is?" Harry questioned.

"Of course not. I don't even know if he's alive. If he's dead, we'll find his body. If he's alive, it's unlikely that he will show up anytime soon. Now then," Parkinson said, patting off the non-existent dust from her shoulder. "I trust that you know where to find me."

And with one last haughty look directed at them, she disapparated. 

\---

The incident was a mess. The whole afternoon was a mess. Aurors and officials alike were baffled at what is now dubbed as the "Malfoy Manor Case".

Aside from the one placed on the Manor, the monitoring charms and alarms on everything else that's related to the Malfoys are in tact: Draco Malfoy's wand, all of their properties across Europe, the and their numerous vaults. 

How did someone wielding a Ministry regulated wand do all of this?

There were no traces left. No body was found, be it human or house elf. They couldn't even track where the Malfoy family's house elves were. 

At the end of the day, since Malfoy had a clean record all throughout his probation and had already paid all of the war reparations, his case took a backseat to the new illegal potions ring that was reported later in the evening. Harry already assigned some of his best Aurors to work on the potions ring case since Robards gave him the leeway to work on the Malfoy Manor Case as he sees fit.

And so, here Harry was, sat in his office with the faded ivory coloured envelope resting on his desk. He picked it up and examined it. The script in which his name was written in was familiar and so was the faint scent attached to it. He turned the envelope over and stared at the wax seal bearing a simple flower on it. It was far from the grand Malfoy crest that he expected to see. Harry furrowed his brows in confusion before letting out a deep sigh and opening the envelope. It only held a single piece of parchment not longer than 15-inches. The scent of Malfoy's perfume got stronger as he unfolded the paper inside.

It read:

" _Potter,_

_I shall be gone once this letter reaches you._

_I do not know why I am writing to you, right when I have reached the end. Perhaps it is because you saved my life on more than one occasion. Thus, I feel the need to correspond to you one last time. Or perhaps because you have been the only constant thing in my life._

_No matter how much I try to deny it, my life has always been intertwined with yours. We are two sides of the same coin. Two platforms of the same scale. Whenever one is rising, the other one is bound to fall. I am hesitant to admit that I took comfort in that. But I did. The loss of my side is a win for yours. I must have been insane because even in the darkest of times when the walls of the Manor echoed with the screams of the Deatheaters being tortured for their failure, I revelled in the idea that you must be winning. It is for the greater good. Always for the greater good._

_When you won, it was like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. I did not care about the consequences that my family was bound to face. I did not care if they were going to wheel us off to Azkaban at first light. At that moment, all I cared about was the fact that you were alive, the Dark Lord was dead, and I can stop being afraid of the corridors of my own home._

_I was a fool for thinking that it was that easy._

_I do express my deepest gratitude for keeping my mother and I out of Azkaban. You have given us the chance to start anew and redeem ourselves. However, the Wizarding World seems to have other ideas. Your statement, the Ministry's decision to keep me in probation, and the money that we paid for the war reparations aren't enough to stop my mother's murder at the hands of vigilantes._

_As long as the Malfoy name stands, there shall be no peace for me nor for my future family. We will always be the family that fought on the wrong side of the war. I cannot restore the Malfoy name to its former glory. I am exhausted._

_For years, I have lived as the ideal heir. I am not willing to live the rest of my life playing that same role and to later on become the head of a destroyed house._

_I have realized that there is more to life than doing what other people expect you to do. There is more to life than being molded into other people's perception of what they expect you to be. Thus, I have come to the conclusion that I'd rather die than live another day as Draco Malfoy. It is time that I rip myself away from our intertwined fates._

_This is farewell, Potter._

_You may not appreciate this from your school nemesis but I have seen you quite a few times. You do not seem to be happy with your life so let me offer you some free advice._

_Control your own life. It's about time you stop doing what others expect you to do. The Dark Lord is dead. You no longer have a prophecy to fulfill. It's your life now. You have no one to answer to except yourself._

  
_Regards,_

_Draco Lucius Malfoy"_

  
Upon finishing the letter, Harry released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. There was a lot to digest from what Malfoy wrote. Malfoy's thoughts seem to be all over the place but they made sense. The first and most important thing that he got from that is that Malfoy is still alive. Most likely. He doesn't have any idea as to how he came up with that conclusion but, after reading the letter, Harry just knows that Draco Malfoy is alive. He is. He has to be.

Harry has to find him. He has to. 

For some reason or another, Harry has decided that he's going to find Draco Malfoy and bring him home. Help him start again. He's going to figure out the particulars as to how exactly he's going to do that but for now he needs to know where Malfoy is.

\---

The next day found Harry standing in front of The Quibbler's office that stood in the less crowded part of Diagon Alley. After the war, people started to take The Quibbler more seriously seeing as they never swayed from the truth. Published eccentric articles? Yes. But slander? Outright lies? The publication now headed by Luna Lovegood has a clean slate. Not to mention its reputation for not caring about which side of the war their staff fought for. Thus, Harry was only slightly surprised when he found out that Pansy Parkinson worked here, as their publisher nonetheless.

"Good morning, Auror Potter!" The cheerful witch standing by the front desk greeted him. "Ms. Lovegood is away on a business trip to the Netherlands. She wouldn't be back until Tuesday next week."

"Good morning, Belinda." Harry greeted back. "That's fine. I'm actually here for Pansy Parkinson…?"

"Oh, sure! Ms. Parkinson is in her office. Let me just inform her that you're here."

It's understandable why Belinda Turnstile, The Quibbler's front desk secretary, would assume that he's here for Luna. Harry usually visits her once every two weeks for tea or to just hang out. Sometimes, he stops by The Quibbler where they would have afternoon tea while chatting about Harry's latest case. They would often be joined by Parkinson who seems to enjoy Luna's company more than she would care to admit. There are also times when Harry would visit Luna's home where she would go on and on about her newest discoveries, whether it be a new colony of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks or a baby Blibbering Humdinger.

Belinda went to where the offices were and came back to tell Harry that Ms. Parkinson is free to see him now. He walked to the door labelled "Publisher's Office", knocked three times and went in once prompted.

"Potter," Parkinson spoke formally as Harry entered her office. "How nice of you to drop by. Have a seat."

"Parkinson." Harry greeted just as formally, taking a seat in front of the former Slytherin's desk.

Her office was simple, something that one would expect an office would be except for the fact that there are definite touches of "Pansy Parkinson" all over the room. There's the emerald green wallpaper and the elegant green and gold carpet laid down in the middle of the wooden floor. Her deep mahogany desk held certain items like an elegant paperweight that held a preserved gladiolus flower inside, and atleast three expensive looking quills next to a glass ink bottle.

"I'm here on official Auror business," Harry explained at Parkinson's questioning look. She was sitting on her desk chair with numerous pieces of parchement laid out in front of her. Judging from the color of the parchment and the familiar scent that Harry can faintly smell, they were the letters found in the Manor's rubble that were addressed to her. "I'm the Auror in charge of the Malfoy Manor Case."

Parkinson let out a snort. "I highly doubt that you're here for a cup of tea." She narrowed her eyes at the papers on her desk and picked up a quill. She dipped it into the ink bottle before swiftly signing the lower portion of the parchment. "Ask away, Potter. I hope you don't mind me doing some work whilst you're here. I have been left with a huge sum of wealth and it is quite a pain in the arse to get the legalities in order."

"Is that what Malfoy left you? The entirety of his fortune?"

Parkinson only hummed in affirmation.

"The vaults, the properties, the investments. All of them were left in my name."

There goes Harry's hopes of tracking the movement of Malfoy's money to see where he will spend it and where he could be.

"I would need a copy of that, Ms. Parkinson. I would also need a copy of Malfoy's latest bank statements and any receipt that you can find." 

"I'll send them to you by owl post the moment my solicitor approves of it. Now, I'm sure that you're not here for the papers. If you're going to ask me to give you the personal letter Draco wrote to me, I would require you to show me the letter that he addressed to you as well."

Harry spluttered. The mere thought of Parkinson reading what Malfoy wrote is enough to embarass him. He doesn't know why he's embarassed though. There's nothing particularly incriminating in those letters after all. "N-No!" Harry cleared his throat. "I mean, there's nothing important written there. Just a 'thank you' note to…thank me."

Apparently, Parkinson misinterpreted Harry's reaction.

"Huh," She said, putting down her quill and sitting back on her chair with her arms folded over her chest. She stared at Harry with a calculating gaze. A few moments passed and Harry was just about to ask her what the hell she was staring at when Parkinson shrugged and went back to looking over the pieces of parchment on her desk. 

"What?" Harry asked.

"Nothing."

They sat in silence once again until Harry grew uncomfortable and remembered what he was here for. He cleared his throat and finally asked the question:

"When did you last see Draco Malfoy?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Parkinson commented, once again setting down her quill. "Three days ago."

Harry took out his notepad and a Quick-Quotes quill.

"Do you mind if I…?" He asked, gesturing to the enchanted quill. Parkinson shook her head and motioned for Harry to do what he pleases.

"The last time I saw Draco was three days ago," She said again. "We had tea at the Manor, as we usually do every Sunday."

"Did he act unusually?"

"He's been acting unusually for years now. Right after the war. I was concerned at first but when time passed and nothing happened, I started to wave off his strange whispering. I guess that was my first mistake. I should've kept my guard up."

"Strange whispering? What was he whispering about? And how strange has he been acting?"

Parkinson sighed and placed her elbow on the desk before she started to massage her temples.

"After the war, he became quiet and reclusive…" She continued. "I didn't see him much for the first year. I was busy with my community service and Draco with whatever it was that he was doing while on probation. After a year, I decided that it was time for us to reclaim our position in society. I wrote to Draco, inviting him for afternoon tea. Start small, you know. Alas, my owl returned with no response. All of my letters returned unopened but I'm nothing if not persistent. We were the last Slytherins of our year left in the country and we have known each other since we were children. I'm not about to let that friendship go just because he was being stubborn. So, I kept sending him letters every week. Until, he finally replied after a month of pestering. 

He agreed to having tea every Sunday and so we did that. Apparently, tea wasn't strong enough. Halfway through my visit, he asked for a bottle of whiskey and poured it into his tea cup. Sodder got shitfaced drunk after two cups."

Parkinson chuckled humorlessly at the memory. Harry said nothing, respecting her need to organize her thoughts before continuing.

"Do you know what he said that night? He said that he was going to burn the Manor down even if it's the last thing he ever does. It scared the living hell out of me because… the way he said it… I half expected him to start casting incendios all over the place right at that moment."

"Not Fiendfyre?"

"Potter, you were there that night. You saved him yourself. It would take another war and an extreme necessity for him to attempt to cast that deadly spell again."

"But, the last two spells performed by his wand included Fiendfyre."

"Th…That's impossible."

"Hermione examined the wand herself."

Parkinson remained silent for a long time. She then pulled out a glass and a bottle of whiskey from her desk drawer and poured herself a drink.

"Don't you think it's too early to drink?"

"If I learned anything from Draco in the past years, it's that it will never be too early to drink. Besides, it's helping me cope with the fact that I've been a shite bestfriend… never realizing that Draco needed help until it's too late." Parkinson said, tilting the glass slightly as if to clink it with another non-existent glass. She then downed the alcohol in one go.

"What's the other spell?" Parkinson finally spoke after her second glass of whiskey.

"The Killing Curse."

"Ah, I told him casting it himself will never work."

"H-He wanted to kill himself?" 

"Maybe…" Parkinson murmured. "Being the only living Malfoy left is difficult. I had to stay with him for atleast a month after Narcissa's death. He was unstable yet no one saw that. He pulled off the mask of the perfect Lord impeccably but deep inside I know his heart was filled with grief. He couldn't even grieve properly what with all the legalities that had to be sorted out."

"So, you still believe that he did all of it? Cast the Fiendfyre and The Killing Curse?"

"Of course. At first, I didn't think that he'd have the guts to do it but, just like you, I've clearly underestimated him." She said, a sneer making its way onto her face. "You know what, I don't think I'll be able to verbally recall the last time I saw Draco... you would just have to see it for yourself."

Parkinson pulled another object from a different drawer. This time, it's a vial roughly the side of a thumb. She removed the cork and placed it on the desk. She then took her wand and placed it on her temple. With closed eyes, she pulled out the silver glowing threads of her memories and placed it inside the vial before sealing it and handing it over to Harry.

"I sure hope you have a pensieve lying about." Parkinson said. "If you have any more questions, I'd be more than happy to answer them the next time you visit. For now, I have more urgent matters to attend to. These papers are very time sensitive and should be taken care of immediately."

Harry nodded in understanding, packing up his notepad and quill along with the vial of Parkinson's memories. There's indeed a pensieve in his office. It's necessary for the Investigation Department seeing as their work involves thorough examination of minute details and how they can be connected to each other to solve cases.

"Thank you, Parkinson." He said, standing up and shaking her hand. "I'll…I'll try my best to find him."

"If Draco doesn't want to be found, you won't find him but still…" She said, her face painted with a tired smile. "Thank you for trying."

As Pansy watched Harry leave, all she could think about was Draco's letter for her. One paragraph, in particular, stood out.

" _There will come a time when we will be forced to choose between what is easy and what is right. Back in the war, I chose the easy path. After that, I went for the right path. Now, I have chosen both. Draco Malfoy is dead, Pans. I do not know if we'll meet again but I shall not ask you to grieve for me. I will be happy. I hope that you will be happy too. The war is over. There wouldn't be another Dark Lord for the next hundred years. It's about time we finally do something because we wanted to do it, not because our parents told us to and especially not because society expects us to."_

Pansy highly doubts that Draco is actually dead but she also knows that it is highly unlikely for her to see him again in this lifetime. Draco definitey doesn't want to be found but Potter seemed determined. He is the Golden Boy and the Savior of the Wizarding World after all. Not to mention the head of the Investigative Department, the office responsible for solving some of the most difficult cases that the Ministry has ever seen. Pansy is hoping that maybe instead of finding Draco and bringing him back to London, Potter will end up finding so much more than that.

With every year that passed, Pansy could see the light and fire slowly vanish from Potter's eyes, extinguished by the repetitive routine and the act of doing whatever the hell would please everyone. The war is over indeed but Potter has never and will never stop being the Chosen One. He could do whatever he pleases, yes but she highly doubts that Potter could take the backlash. And so, the man's spirit diminished. However, Pansy's life wasn't the only thing that changed in the past 24 hours. For the first time in years, she could see the flicker of determination in Potter's eyes grow stronger. The fire was starting to burn again. 

Pansy sighed and went back to the papers in front of her. She loves Draco like family but she truly abhors the fact that he left her with a shit ton of documents that she needed to meticulously read before signing. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was 1:42PM so she poured herself another drink.

This was going to be a long day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 🥰
> 
> Kudos and comments are highly appreciated. If you have suggestions or guesses as to what will happen feel free to leave them below!
> 
> Updates will be every TUESDAY. 
> 
> Next update: August 18


	2. Trails

Harry entered his office that very same afternoon, eager to view the memories that Parkinson provided. If everything goes according to plan, he would still have time to go to Ron and Hermione's for their scheduled dinner.

He ignored the stack of paperwork on his desk – paperwork that he needed to sign to properly close the cases that they solved in the past week – in lieu of heading straight to the cabinets that held the pensieve. Harry then reached into one of his robe pockets and fished out the vial that held the silvery liquid. He popped of the lid and poured the memory into the shallow dish in front of him before bracing himself to go in.

* * *

_The first thing that Harry became aware of was the brightness of the place that he was in. He looked around and saw that he was surrounded by large floor-to-ceiling windows, letting the morning light shine through and fill the room with warmth. The roof above seemed to be made out of glass with an extravagant looking obsidian chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The faded beige rug complimented the black and white checkered pattern of the linoleum floor. It was also home to a single chaise lounge and two arm chairs, all of which formed a rough circle in the middle of the room with the arm chairs facing the high glass windows. Harry deduced that he was probably in the Malfoy Manor's sunroom._

_It was then that Harry noticed the figures of one Draco Malfoy and one Pansy Parkinson sitting on each of the arm chairs, cups of tea in hand. Parkinson looked like how she always does on a Sunday morning. Her short bob framing her small face and her clothes of pristine quality, not having a single wrinkle on them. Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed to not have changed since the war. If Harry ignored the faint age lines on the blond's forehead, he would think that the day in which this memory occured is the day immediately after the Malfoys' trial. Malfoy was pale – paler than how Harry remembered him to be back in school – and he looked sickly. There seemed to be bruises under his eyes, making obvious the lack of sleep that he was getting. Harry also noticed the blond's shaking hands. It was subtle, the movement small and minute. If one didn't stare at it closely, they wouldn't see their trembling._

_"How are you, Draco?" Parkinson's voice caught his attention. Harry stood by the window to watch the exchange that's happening between the two Slytherins. Malfoy only hummed in response before taking a sip from his tea cup. "You look sick, dear. Maybe I should take you to St. Mu--"_

_"No." The blond declined sharply, his jaw tensing. "You know very well what happened the last time I asked for help from that wretched place."_

_"But--"_

_"My mother DIED because they refused to treat "_ Death Eater scum _", Pansy." Malfoy spat out, his eyes raging with both intense hatred and grief. "I am not about to walk into a place that is as guilty as the bastard who attacked her."_

_Parkinson only let out a sigh, staring into the vast lands of the Malfoy property that lay in front of them. The albino peacocks were peacefully exploring the gardens, providing adequate entertainment for the two purebloods._

_A long silence passed before Parkinson started to talk about the latest pureblood gossip. Malfoy did nothing but stare at the window and occasionally sip his tea. Once the cup was empty, he held it out to his side and let the enchanted tea pot fill it up again. Parkinson was just starting to talk about a Lady Selwyn having an affair with a muggle woman behind her husband's back when Malfoy loudly set his cup back on the saucer, making Parkinson flinch at the noise it made._

_"I'm going to destroy it…all of it. Until there's nothing left. Burn it down to the ground. That should rid it of any filth." Harry heard Malfoy whisper harshly, more to himself than to his companion. "Imagine what my father would say if he sees the Manor in flames. I doubt that he could say anything now that he's dead." His words held an air of danger that extended to the atmosphere of the room. The blond's voice was quiet enough that Harry had to step closer and strain his ears before remembering that this was Parkinson's memories. Whatever she heard, he will hear as well. She definitely heard what Malfoy said, the indication of such can be seen in the tightening of her grip on the tea cup's handle. Harry looked back at Malfoy. He had to restrain a shiver at the fire that he saw in the blond's eyes. The fire of determination and will that wasn't there moments ago but it can now be seen shining in his former school rival's eyes. Parkinson turned to glance at Malfoy's face and Harry could see the exact moment she told her about earlier. He saw the exact moment that she froze with fear upon seeing Malfoy's expression. Harry could see what she meant by half-expecting Malfoy to start casting Incendios all over the place. He watched as the blond's hand twitched and made a move to reach for his wand that's resting on the end table. However, he stopped and clenched his fist, willing it to rest on the armrests of the lounge chair that he's sitting on._

_Malfoy heaved a heavy sigh, resting his head on the back of the hair with closed eyes._

_"I'm…" He started to say shakily. Malfoy cleared his throat and took a deep breath before proceeding. When he spoke, Harry was reminded of the boy that he saw in the Astronomy Tower, the night Dumbledore died. Malfoy blinked and the burning that Harry saw earlier vanished, a dull and fatigued expression taking its place. "I'm done, Pans. It's too much, even for me. I've been trying so hard and doing everything that I can, doing everything that my 'father' taught me to do but I can't handle the damage control. It's been five years and there are still people spitting on my face, throwing insults every time I go out in public. Even if I restore our former glory, what then? What happens then? Do I start acting like my father? Acting just like how I was raised? Get a 'wife'. Produce an heir. Live my days not unlike how the men in my family have lived theirs. I'm tired, Pans… For once, I want to…"_

_A deep sigh._

_"Want to what?"_

_"Fly. Maybe. Fly without restraints. Fly without my reputation and family name weighing me down."_

_"Then fly, Draco."_

_Then the environment shifted. The glass windows vanished, the lounge chairs faded. Harry now found himself in what seems to be a study. The black walls with gold details along with the numerous bookshelves lining the walls gave the room a heavy and claustrophobic atmosphere despite its actual size being twice as big as Harry's office. In the middle stood two couches facing each other with a simple yet sophisticated looking coffee table placed in between. A single desk could be found by the window. Papers were scattered all over it._

_Harry walked closer to take a peak at what the papers were about but, seeing as he was looking through Parkinson's memory, all he could see were blurs of ink. Malfoy sat on the chair by the desk while Parkinson sat on one of the couches, a glass of wine in her hand. It seems that it's already evening judging by the darkness that Harry can see through the window._

_"Whatever are you going to do with these books, Draco?" Parkinson spoke, gesturing to the stacks of heavy tomes on the coffee table. Harry looked closer and saw that they were atlases. If only he could open these, maybe they hold the secret as to where Malfoy is. Malfoy dismissed Parkinson with a wave of his hand._

_"I'm throwing them out. They're useless." He drawled. Parkinson set her wine glass down on the table and picked one of the atlases up, opening it to a random page. Harry immediately walked to take a look over her shoulder._

_"Hmm… New Zealand." She hummed at the map of the said country. "Luna talked about a group of Maeros breeding magical cows in the forests of New Zealand. She said that those cows can produce gold milk."_

_"It seems like you've been spending quite a lot of time with Lovegood." Malfoy commented as he picked up a piece of parchment, read through it for a bit, before crumpling it into a ball and throwing it in the waste bin beside him._

_"She's my employer," Parkinson replied with a shrug. Harry could see a faint blush on her cheeks but maybe that's just from the wine. "Besides, she's fun to talk to."_

_Malfoy only hummed in acknowledgement as he continued sorting through the parchments. Parkinson went back to flipping through the book of maps until she reached the map of France. A red circle was drawn around the names of several of its cities including Paris, Lyon, Bordeaux, Marseille, and Toulouse. Harry furrowed his brows. The previous maps didn't have anything drawn or written on them, as far as he could tell. France must be special. The auror filed that information in his mind for later._

_"What about France, Draco? We can leave the country too. Maybe have dinner with Millie and Daph. They live in Bordeaux now. Did you know that they're getting married next month? You can also start your apprenticeship at that hospital in Lyon your mother always talked about."_

_"I am certain that they'd rather close the hospital than accept anybody with the name 'Malfoy' attached to it."_

_The scene shifted again. This time, they stood by the fireplace in the Manor's foyer. They must have reached the end of the visit because Parkinson was already putting on her coat, poised to leave._

_"I'll see you next Sunday, Draco. Maybe we can go out for lunch next time around." Parkinson said, her voice only slightly hopeful indicating that she had already suggested the same thing numerous times before. Malfoy only nodded, his eyes transfixed on the painting above the fireplace. It was that of a countryside. Bright and peaceful._

_Parkinson was just about to step into the Floo when Malfoy softly called out her name. She stopped in her tracks and, before she knew it, she was engulfed into a tight hug._

_"Thank you," Malfoy whispered. "For everything."_

_Parkinson froze for a second before she started patting Malfoy's back. "You must be pissed off drunk right now, darling." She teased. However, Harry could see a soft smile gracing her features. "Try not to drink when I'm not around, love. Sappiness doesn't suit you too well."_

_Malfoy let out a snort and rolled his eyes. With one last pat on the back, Parkinson let go and flooed back home._

* * *

Harry had to take a moment to regain his bearings as he was transported back to his office. He watched the swirling waters of the Pensieve and mulled over the events that transpired within Parkinson's memories.

France.

It seemed to be an important place. If Harry was to guess, he'd say that Malfoy was in France. He remembers someone, maybe Ron, saying that the Malfoys were originally from France. 

How will he start looking? Maybe go to Lyon? He couldn't just go there without a firm lead. Yes, the city's name may have been encircled in the maps and Parkinson may have talked about it but it was far from being the only place marked. Maybe the other cities have a bigger significance to the Malfoys, specifically to Draco.

But…

Harry remembered the letter. Malfoy wrote that he would rather die than live another day as himself. He would rather die than bear the name of Malfoy any longer. 

The young Auror sat on his chair with a heavy sigh. He removed his glasses and pressed the heels of his palms over his eyes in frustration. He then took out Malfoy's letter from his robe pocket and set it down on his desk. Harry felt ridiculous carrying it wherever he goes but he feels uneasy with just the thought of leaving it for anyone to find. 

As he stared at the now broken emerald wax seal adorning the envelope, only one thing filled Harry's mind.

Where could Draco Malfoy be?

* * *

"Hey, mate! Glad you could make it." Ron greeted him cheerfully with a tight hug upon opening the door to his and Hermione's home. 

It was a nice single story house located in Falmouth, just a little further away from Ottery St. Catchpole. After their wedding last year, Ron and Hermione decided to move into a new house. They didn't want to be in the same wizarding village as the rest of the family but they didn't want to be too far away from them either. 

Harry entered the house and was immediately hit with its warm and homey feeling. He could smell something delectable cooking in the kitchen, a combination of Ron's cottage pie and Hermione's Yorkshire pudding. It was only when a grumble was heard that Harry realized he had skipped both breakfast and lunch that day.

"So, how's the Malfoy case, Harry?" Hermione asked once the three of them were sat down by the dinner table with plates piled up with food. Both Hermione and Ron did a fantastic job with cooking for tonight's dinner. Harry doesn't know where the two of them find the time to cook, much less learn it, what with being extremely busy with work. Well, if there's a will, there's a way, Harry guessed.

"Slow…and frustrating." Harry said, after taking a hefty bite of cottage pie (lots of mashed potato on top, just the way he likes it). "Malfoy's definitely alive. I'm sure of it. I went to Parkinson this afternoon. She said that if Malfoy's alive and he doesn't want to be found, nobody would be able to find him."

"Hate to say it but she's right," Ron said, reaching for another serving of food. "If Malfoy really did blow up the Manor and left without a trace – which he did – who's to say he's not hiding out in some far off country right now? Either that or he's dead."

"He's not dead." Harry insisted. "His…his letter didn't sound like he was going to kill himself anytime soon. Leave? Yes. But die? I don't think so."

"Then maybe those left over Death Eaters got to him."

"I'd like to think that that's not the case. Besides, only Malfoy's magical signature was detected across the property. It couldn't have possibly been anyone but him."

Ron shrugged.

"We're not ruling anything out until the investigation is complete," Hermione interjected. "However, there is no doubt that Malfoy was the one who set the Manor on fire. I'll hand you the file later but we have examined almost everything in the property. Dark magic was definitely used, that's for certain but not in the way that one would expect."

"You know, torture or murder, rituals to bring a dark lord back to life." Ron said, listing down some of the things that dark magic is commonly used for. Indeed, if one thinks of "dark magic" there's usually death and violence attached to it.

"So, it's not any of those?" Harry asked. Hermione shook her head.

"Malfoy used dark magic, specifically blood magic. We haven't looked into it thoroughly but we have a theory that it's something to do with the wards." Ron explained. "We'll go back there tomorrow and check out the spellwork of the wards…or what's left of them anyways. They're all tattered from what I can tell."

Seeing as the investigation of the Manor is still under works, the trio's conversation soon moved into the topic of Parkinson's memory.

"France?" Hermione asked as they were clearing the table. "Well, that makes sense. The Malfoys did originally come from France. But the country is huge. For all we know, he can be anywhere in the globe."

"She's right, mate. But there's no harm done in trying."

"Are you sure about this though, Harry?" Hermione's face was painted with clear concern and so was Ron's. Harry looked at them in confusion.

"Sure about what?"

His two bestfriends glanced at each other before Ron took a deep breath and spoke.

"Well, Hermione and I have been talking and…we thought that maybe you can hand over this case to the others. We know Robards put you in charge of it but…we also know how you are when it comes to Malfoy."

"Hey, that was years ago--" Harry objected, suddenly tensing up. "He really was up to something at that time. Besides, this is different!"

"Still…" Hermione tried to placate him. "You were never really rational whenever Malfoy is involved."

"What? I was right about sixth year!"

"True, but you followed him around like mad! I'm still surprised that the Marauder's Map didn't rename itself to 'Draco Malfoy Surveillance Map'." 

"Not to mention you testified for him and his mother during the trials."

"I couldn't let them be carted to Azkaban! They saved my life!"

"You persuaded the Wizengamot to not even put any of them on house arrest, which, in my opinion, Malfoy kind of deserved for letting those Death Eaters in during sixth year."

"He didn't have a choice--" Harry continued to argue. He doesn't have any idea what Ron and Hermione are trying to say here. "Voldemort was going to kill his family if he didn't do it. And I told you that he lowered his wand that night. I know for a fact that he doesn't want to kill Dumbledore. I was there."

Hermione let out a sigh as she charmed the dishes to wash themselves. Ron, on the other hand, started to put mugs of tea on the table. As the three of them sat down, Hermione reached over the table to hold Harry's hands in hers.

"Harry," she began to say in an understanding tone. "If this is about what Parkinson said the other day--"

"No, it's not!" Harry suddenly burst out, louder than he intended it to be. It had the desired effect of stopping whatever it was the Ron and Hermione was about to say. However, Harry knew that his tone was less than friendly and that resulted into a nasty and sour feeling slowly creep its way from his heart to all of his limbs. He took a deep breath and ran both his hands over his hair. "Look, I'm sorry… It's just… I have to find him. I don't know why, I don't how. I just have to. Maybe I owe it to Malfoy's mother for saving me. Maybe I owe it to her to ensure that her son will live a happy life with his friends instead of being alone in a strange place. Honestly, I'm confused myself but I have to do this. I have to."

Harry looked at his best friends with pleading eyes, hoping that they would either understand or just leave him be. Hermione was just about to say something when Ron laid a gentle hand on her shoulder to stop her. He then took a deep breath.

"Harry, mate… I know you can take care of yourself," Ron said calmly, his eyes conveying the expression of genuine concern. "We just want you to be very careful – more careful – this time. Think things through before jumping into them. We're not partners anymore so I can't stop your 'jump now, think later' tendencies. You can ask us for help too, you know. Malfoy may be a git and none of us may ever get along with him but a breathing, annoying git is better than a dead one."

That night, before going back home to Grimmauld Place, Harry hugged both Ron and Hermione tighter than he usually does. They understood and hugged him back just as tight.

Looking back at the conversation, Harry felt a bit ridiculous. He sighed as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, unable to sleep despite having a happy and satisfied stomach. He can count on one hand the number of times he has spoken to Malfoy since the war. It was never a friendly meeting, nor was it an unfriendly one. They merely nod at each other in acknowledgement whenever they meet at the Ministry. The last time Harry had a semblance of a conversation with Malfoy was after he testified for him during the trials.

* * *

_"Mr. Potter." A voice called out just as he was about to get into the elevator that will take him to the atrium. Harry looked back to see Narcissa and Draco Malfoy standing side by side in the hallway leading to the courtrooms. Two Ministry officials stood behind them probably waiting to take them to the specific department that will process their probation. Harry walked over to where they are and offered a small smile. Narcissa smiled back, although it was nothing more than just a twitch of her lips. Malfoy – Draco –, on the other hand just looked at him with clenched jaws and cold eyes. Narcissa then spoke in a soft yet formal tone. "We would like to thank you, Mr. Potter. You did not have to speak for us but you did and, for that, we are grateful."_

_"You saved my life, Mrs. Malfoy. You and Draco both. The least I could do is make sure you don't end up in Azkaban." Harry was glad that he has managed to not stumble over Malfoy's first name._

_"It was all for the greater good, after all." Narcissa said, placing a gentle hand on her son's arm. "Draco shares the same sentiments."_

_Malfoy breathed sharply through his nose and gulped before speaking._

_"Indeed. My gratitudes, Potter." was all he said, bowing his head slightly. When he looked up, he didn't meet Harry's eyes._

_"I-It's fine," Harry replied, a bit startled. He cleared his throat before talking again. "I want to thank you as well…for that time at the Manor. For not giving me away."_

_Only nods of acknowledgement followed before the two Malfoys were escorted away by the officials, leaving Harry to stand in the empty hallway by himself_.

* * *

Sleep was anything but peaceful that night. He spent hours tossing and turning, a million thoughts passing through his head, all of which centered around one Draco Malfoy. 

Maybe Ron and Hermione were right. He was never really right as rain whenever Malfoy is involved. His…interest (he refused to call it an "obsession") may have been pushed to the back of his mind because of the little to no interactions that he shared with the blond but the letter brought it all back in full throttle. 

Malfoy left letters for two people only. Two. For Parkinson, his best friend. And for Harry, his school nemesis. The same Harry that he shared a mutual hatred with for years. The same Harry that he saved in the Manor and who also saved him in return. The same Harry who he helped by throwing his wand, allowing him to, once and for, all defeat the madman who tormented the entire wizarding world for years. Malfoy could've left a letter for Zabini or even Luna. But, he chose Harry. That, in itself, made Harry more than just a little bit determined to find Malfoy and bring him home.

Harry finally fell into a fitful sleep at 3AM.

That night, he dreamt of that day in Malfoy Manor, roughly five years ago when Malfoy refused to confirm his identity. Silver eyes boring into his, pools of mercury swirling with both recognition and fear. 

* * *

Harry breathed in deeply before stepping into Gringotts. The goblins may have already forgiven him for that break-in five years ago but that doesn't mean they stopped being wary of his presence. Upon entering the building, Harry was immediately escorted by two guards who flanked his sides. He rolled his eyes and went straight to the Head Goblin at the end of the hall. 

"Mr. Potter," Brunnar greeted him curtly. "To what do I owe this visit? Not about to steal our dragons are we?"

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes again. He fished an envelope bearing the Ministry of Magic seal from his inner robe pocket and slid it over the counter, towards the goblin. 

"Fortunately, no. I'm here on official Auror business. As I'm investigating the disappearance of Mr. Draco Malfoy, I would need to see his latest bank statements along with any receipts of his expenses for the past year or so."

"Very well. I'll have the goblin in charge of the Malfoy vaults meet you in a moment."

He was then led to an office that beared a single desk with a chair along with two lounge chairs in front of it. Harry sat down on one of the chairs and waited. He need not wait long. Around five minutes later, a goblin entered and sat in front of the desk. 

"Agkras, Mr. Potter. Pleased to make your acquaintance." The goblin, Agkras, greeted with a smile. Well, it was less of a smile and more of a grimace. Harry has nothing against goblins but they really don't have the kindest of expressions. "I'm the goblin in charge of the Malfoy vaults. Brunnar told me that you need to view the Malfoy bank statements, correct?"

"Yes. I would also need a copy of them for the investigation."

"Ah, I'm afraid that's not possible. As much as I can let you take a look at the documents, I am under strict orders to not release a single copy of them to anyone but the chosen heir or representative."

"You mean Pansy Parkinson?" 

"Indeed." Agkras confirmed before standing and going over to one of the numerous file cabinets that lined the walls. After just a few seconds of searching, he procured a thick looking Manila folder that he set on the desk. "These files hold nothing but simple bank statements. If you want to view the actual legal documents, I suggest you confer with Lady Parkinson."

The goblin was right. Despite the thickness of the folder, it held nothing more than basic bank statements. Something that the goblins are allowed to show any Ministry official that asks for it. Anything beyond that would require permission from the member of the family, their solicitor, or their chosen heir. However, they still contained information that Harry found useful.

A day before Parkinson's visit to the Manor, Malfoy visited Gringotts and withdrawn 5000 Galleons in person which further strengthened his belief that the blond git is alive. On the same day, he also made arrangements to transfer all of the Malfoy vaults, properties, and investments to Parkinson. He basically named Parkinson the rightful heir to the Malfoy wealth and has signed himself off as incapable of performing duties expected of a Lord Malfoy thus making the transfer and declaration immediate.

When Harry arrived home, an intimidating looking owl was waiting for him. It didn't look like a Barn owl, it was too gray to be a Snowy owl, and it lacked the horns of a Great Horned owl. He wasn't that well-versed when it comes to owl species so he just shrugged and took the large, thick-looking envelope that the owl brought him. It did't seem to expect a reply seeing as it flew right out the window, which Harry understood since he has an idea about who the owl is from.

\---

Apparently, Malfoy did more than just take money and transfer the rest to Parkinson. He did so much more than that and, as much as Harry believes that no amount of money can make up for the mistakes of the past, he truly appreciates the thought behind them.

It turns out that all the Malfoy house elves were sent to Hogwarts to help out. All twenty of them. Harry snorted at the note attached to the file about the house elves ("Don't even think about interrogating them. They are bound to secrecy until he dies or orders them to speak himself"). Aside from that Malfoy also transferred a million galleons each into the vaults of Andromeda Tonks and Edward Remus Lupin. He had also re-instated Andromeda back into the Black family, automatically making Tonks and Teddy part of the family tree as well. This brought a wide smile on Harry's face. The past years have been tough seeing as he is technically the only heir of the Black family but now, Andy and Teddy can rebuild and redefine the family's legacy. With their re-instatement, they are also given back their seats at the Wizengamot. The Black family, being both ancient and noble, held two seats. Both of which will go to Andy until Teddy is of age. The two Malfoy seats in the Wizengamot, on the other hand will naturally go to Parkinson. However, a footnote written at the bottom of the parchment caught Harry's eyes.

 _"The (2) Malfoy seats in the Wizengamot will be under Lady Pansy Parkinson until such a time that Edward Remus Lupin is of age. Once that day arrives, one seat will go to the young lord in hopes that he shall help bring the change that the wizarding world needs."_  
  
Not only that but Malfoy donated one million galleons to Hogwarts "in order to support the education of young witches and wizards of diverse backgrounds and status". Another million was divided into different charities that support war victims, the biggest chunk of which went into the support of those who have been bitten by and turned into werewolves. The wizarding world is much kinder to them now but that doesn't mean the discrimination has stopped especially when it comes to finding and keeping an occupation. 

Finally, Harry flipped to the last document that Parkinson sent him. It was mostly blank with only a single paragraph on it along with the necessary headings, signatures, and stamps that make legal whatever is written on the parchment.

_"I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, Heir of the Malfoy family and of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, re-instate Sirius Orion Black into the Black family and declare Harry James Potter as his sole and rightful heir."_

Harry stared at the final parchment for a long while, blinking twice, reading and re-reading it thrice. A look of disbelief was painted on his face and he could feel the prickle of incoming tears that he tried to blink away. He could feel his chest constrict and his heart clench. 

It has been years since Sirius' death and while Harry did manage to accept that, the pain is still there, the pain of a vanished a hope of what they could've been as a family. Despite Sirius leaving everything to him – Grimmauld Place and all of the Black vaults – in the back of his mind, he knows that he will always feel disconnected to it being a Potter and having the portrait of Walburga Black screeching about "Half breeds! Half Bloods! Blood traitors! Filth! Unworthy of magic!" every chance it gets.

For Malfoy to do this, to officially make him a part of a family – the Black family, no less – it brought strong emotions to Harry. Emotions that are now all swirling inside him and are threatening to bring tears to his eyes. The sense of belongingness upon realizing that he can now call Andy and Teddy his family. The hope that the three of them can rebuild the wicked reputation of the House of Black, something that Harry is sure that both Sirius and Andy will appreciate. The sadness of remembering Sirius and how he wouldn't be here to see it. And finally, admiration. Admiration for Malfoy. Admiration in knowing that in his final moments in the place that he called "home" for so many years, in his final moments before he decided to leave, he has still managed to make a change. A change that is so different from what is expected of him. A positive one. Something that brings fortune and hope to the right people, the good people. This time, it wasn't because he was asking for recognition or merit. This was done without anyone else's knowledge. All of the deposits to those other vaults and charities were named under an "Anonymous Benefactor". Malfoy did it because he thought these people deserved it. He did it – dare Harry say it – out of the goodness of his heart. He may have also done it because of guilt brought upon by his past actions. Whatever the reason may be, his recent deeds were still what could only be defined as good.

In that moment, Harry's goal changed. He no longer wants to find Malfoy to close the case. He wants to find Malfoy to see the man that he has become, to see for himself just how much he could do now that he seems to have denounced the name of Malfoy along with the ideals and expectations that came with it.

_"Draco did this with a Ministry regulated wand, in seconds, and then apparated away without one. Imagine what he could have done throughout the war, good or bad, had he actually tried."_

Those were Parkinson's words during that day at the Manor. Malfoy is finally trying. And may everything be damned if Harry isn't there to see it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you're all liking this so far. I'm having so much fun writing this! I finished writing the chapter earlier than scheduled so I posted it right away~
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated. 💖
> 
> Next update: August 25


	3. Warmer

The search lasts for five years.

A lot has happened in Harry's life as those years passed. Although, he can't say the same for the Malfoy Manor Case. While, the mystery of who actually burned the house has been solved, Draco Malfoy remains missing as of this day. 

For the first year, Harry tried to look everywhere but to no avail. He couldn't procure a solid enough evidence for Robards to give him permission to investigate in France. He still went there just for the heck of it, in the guise of a 'vacation'. He visited all the cities encircled in the map from the memories. No sign of Draco Malfoy anywhere. He couldn't actually stay in the country just to wait for him to pop up. He was basically just walking around blind without any actual lead to nudge him to the right direction.

Hermione did give him the report on the Malfoy Manor once the investigation concluded. Draco Malfoy's Ministry regulated wand was also included in the examination. It seems like the Killing Curse was only used to break the regulations set on the wand seeing as it was both dark and powerful. Fiendfyre was used for the obvious reason of setting everything in fire. It's silly but Harry almost let out a sigh of relief once he read the hypothesis on why the Unforgiveable was used. He doesn't know if his elated feeling is from the fact that the blond didn't kill anyone or the implication that he wasn't really trying to take his own life as Parkinson suggested when they first talked. Either way, the Malfoy Manor reports only served to motivate him no matter how long it may take given his duties and responsibilities at work.

For the most part, he has just been juggling the Malfoy case with whatever case the Auror office has at hand.

As Head of the Investigation Department, a lot of things are demanded from him, expected of him. He couldn't just ignore all of that to go traipsing in France in search for a blond git just because his "gut" tells him to. Besides, he also has his family to take care of. He has a family now. Andromeda and Teddy. Nothing much changed at first but, soon enough, Andy started to treat Harry like her own son, making sure that he's not overworking himself and that he's eating properly and on time. Despite not saying anything about it, Harry knows that Andy truly appreciated what Draco did. 

The Wizarding World is also a bit kinder now. Thanks to Draco's donation and the presence of both Pansy Parkinson and Andromeda Tonks neé Black in the Wizengamot, legislations that care for creatures' rights are being passed. As of this moment, the "Anti-Discrimination Against Creatures" act is on its final reading before it's to be voted by the council. The said act serves to promote the rights of creatures such as werewolves and centaurs. Anyone who refuses employment for these creatures shall be punishable by law. Harry knows that Andy will fight tooth-and-nail for its passage in honour of her son-in-law. They know that Teddy will benefit from it too because there will always be people who will look at his genealogy instead of his abilities.

Andy and Teddy both still lived in the Tonks house while Harry has been trying to make Grimmauld Place his home. Sirius left it to him and he doesn't want to leave it empty. He wants to fill it with bright and happy memories that will erase its dark past. Harry deems himself successful for the most part. Walburga would roll in her grave if she sees the current state of the House of Black. Gone were the moth infested curtains and the dusty eaten-through carpets, the house elf heads and the troll foot. In their place were curtains made of nearly transparent silk fabric that allowed light to seep through into the now clean windows. The carpet that was spread out in the living room was a gift from Luna from her travels in Saudi Arabia. As for the other items in the house, Harry either destroyed or sold most of them after making sure that they're not cursed. He then renovated the whole place with the help of his friends. Every room is brighter, cleaner, and more welcoming. Household cleaning spells now work properly and Harry doesn't have to scrub fruitlessly for hours on the bathroom tiles to remove the dirt and grime just for it to return to its previous state a few moments later. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, Grimmauld Place started to become "more cooperative" after he was officially named Sirius' heir, making him appear in the Black family tree that still adorned the drawing room. Andy mentioned that it's probably the house finally recognizing him as part of the Black family.

However, despite its kinder appearance, it still really isn't a home for Harry. It's merely a place where he sleeps and resides after work. It lacks the feeling of safety and belongingness that he felt when he was at Hogwarts. He thought about quitting the Auror force and becoming a professor at Hogwarts just to feel that homey feeling again but there are just too many bad memories there that are sure to haunt him for days upon end. Not only that but he also has a job to do.

Despite what others might assume, the years did not dampen his determination to find Draco. 

Draco. 

Somewhere along the way Malfoy has turned into Draco.

Harry couldn't keep calling him by his last name when he has done so much to erase and go against the Malfoy legacy. He knows that part of the reason why Draco left is to finally start a new life for himself. 

_"Fly. Maybe. Fly without restraints. Fly without my reputation and family name weighing me down."_

That's what he said and Harry has a feeling that it's what Draco has set out to do. Harry knows that he should probably leave him alone especially if he's starting anew but how could he? How could he just let Draco be if he is reminded everyday about how much he owes the blond git? His house. Andy and Teddy. His own life. A mere testimony at the trials to keep him out of Azkaban wasn't enough. He knows that he should've tried harder to improve Draco's reputation at the very least. Maybe if he had… Maybe Draco could've walked the streets of Diagon Alley without worrying about getting hexed or spat in the face. Maybe Narcissa wouldn't be dead. Maybe Draco would still have his mother. Maybe she would've gotten decent treatment and not be left to die. Maybe she wouldn't have been attacked in the first place. 

Deep down, Harry feels like it's his fault that Draco felt the need to burn down his family home and leave the country. Call it his "hero complex" but he couldn't stop the guilty feeling from eating him up. At the very least, he wanted to thank Draco for everything he did and to return his wand.

Those thoughts haunt him everyday, reminding him to continue looking for Draco even if there are no leads for him to follow, no evidences for him to examine, and no witnesses for him to interrogate.

Although his determination hasn't wavered, Harry couldn't dedicate a hundred percent of his working hours into looking for Draco. Everyday new cases arrive for him and his fellow Aurors to solve. Some of these cases are easy – they could be solved in a day – while others require focus and months of extensive research. Those cases are the most difficult and, usually, the most dangerous. He barely has enough time to juggle his work as the head of his department with going out with his friends and spending time with his family, especially now that there's only a year left before Teddy goes to Hogwarts. It's not helping that he chose to keep the Malfoy Manor case to himself instead of assigning it to some of his best Aurors. Harry blames his change of heart when it comes to why exactly he's still looking for Draco. In any case, he's juggling all of his responsibilities while trying to keep a sane mind.

It's difficult but he only has to look at his own face sewn into the Black family tree to keep him going.

* * *

Harry feels only slightly uncomfortable in his steel grey dress robes as he walked the unfamiliar path to a spacious garden. He didn't have the time to go to Madam Malkin's for his robe fittings. He has only been there twice and he knows he probably should've tried harder to attend the appointments but he was just too busy so now he has to endure the slight tightness around his neck and chest area. Harry made sure to check himself in the mirror and he didn't that look bad. That's why he just shrugged and apparated to the wedding venue.

"Harry!" The cheerful voice of a child greeted him as he arrived at the garden. A flash of turquoise was all he saw before he found himself ambushed by a small figure. The face of his godson, Teddy looked up at him with a bright smile as he hugged his godfather tightly as if they hadn't just seen each other last night at dinner. "You're here! And right on time! Auntie Mione said that you would probably be late again--"

Harry chuckled and ruffled Teddy's hair. "I don't think the brides would appreciate it if I was late to their wedding. Especially not your Aunt Pansy." He said the last part in a faux scared tone for some dramatic effect. He then looked up to see Andy watching them from afar. She looked magnificent in her blue dress robes. It had long sleeves but the material looked thin enough for the outdoor summer heat. The two boys went over to where she stood. Harry smiled and gave his adopted mother a hug.

"Glad to see that you have managed to get dressed properly and on time, dear." Andy made a teasing remark, moving to re-do Harry's necktie. 

"Harry's scared that Aunt Pansy will burn him into ashes if he's late, Gran!" Teddy joined in. Harry shrugged but his lips were curved into an amused smile.

"Who's to say she won't do it though? I'm already in deep water if she finds out that I didn't attend all the robe fitting appointments she set for me."

"Ah, that's why you look a little uneasy." Andy commented before tapping her wand on Harry's chest. He let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of the cloth loosening a bit.

"Thanks, Andy."

It was then that Harry looked around to take in the scene that he was surrounded by. The wedding venue was situated in one of the Malfoy properties that Pansy has inherited. At first, it looked to be some sort of garden but he realized that it's really quite far from the definition and idea of a garden. It's more of a space in the middle of a group of overgrown weeping willow trees, their hanging leaves and branches acting like a decorative canopy. A grey carpet ran in between the rows of bronze outdoor chairs. At the end of the walkway was a leafy wedding arch that was more circular than arch-shaped. It looked like it was made mostly out of tree fern, honey bracelet, and white baby's breath flowers. It, more or less, reflected the taste of both brides.

Harry, Andy, and Teddy were led to their seats by who Harry recognized as Daphne Greengrass-Bulstrode. Her wife was probably with Pansy to help her get ready. He spotted Ron and Hermione who were already sat down as well as Neville, George, Angelina, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Fleur, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and a couple more of their fellow Hogwarts alumni along with other people that he didn't recognize. Perhaps, they were friends of the other bride from her travels.

The ceremony started after a short while. A Ministry official stood by the wedding arch as all of the guests stood to wait for the brides to walk down the aisle.

A flock of pale blue birds flew along the aisle. As they flew, music started to play as if it was sung by the birds themselves. Harry watched as Pansy Parkinson walked down the grey carpet, her arm hooked into that of Milicent Greengrass-Bulstrode's. She wore a white off-shoulder wedding dress made of tulle fabric. Flower lace patterns were sewn onto the top and scattered loosely away from each other as they reached the hem. Her raven hair was pinned into a bun with stray strands of it framing her face. She glowed with beauty and happiness. She smiled at all of the guests as she passed them, rolling her eyes at Blaise who let out a wolf whistle. Pansy and Milicent stopped at the end of the aisle, just in front of the wedding arch. Milicent then pressed a kiss on the bride's cheek before going to sit on the front row beside her wife. Pansy then turned to face the way in which she just came from to await her own bride.

The music kept on playing. A sweet song that was carried by the wind. Everyone turned to face the other end of the aisle once again as Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley walked in. Luna looked enchanting and ethereal in her ivory wedding dress, chiffon cloth draped over her shoulders serving as a sleeve to the simple V-necked bodice. The same floral lace patterns from Pansy's gown can be found sewn into hers as well, although it was only confined on the upper part of the dress. The skirt of the gown flowed freely and its hem barely reached the ground, showing Luna's bare feet. The blonde wore a soft smile on her face as she looked ahead. Her eyes were shining with love and affection for her soon-to-be wife. Her golden locks flowed down her back like a river adorned with little white flowers that were probably conjured by Luna herself. 

Harry smiled as she watched Luna walk down the aisle with her bestfriend. Ginny looked wonderful too and, for a second, Harry felt a pang of regret at what they could've been. The two of them would probably have already been married by now but things were a bit too unstable after the war. Harry revelled in not having to run away for his life anymore and Ginny was all too focused in graduating from Hogwarts and becoming a Quidditch star. They had a long conversation a year after the war and decided that they were better off as friends. And they were. Whereas Ron and Hermione often tried to sympathize with him, Ginny was frank and was a no-nonsense kind of woman. She encouraged him to stop feeling guilty about every single death brought upon by the war. She convinced him to go to a Mind Healer to deal with the trauma. She knocked some sense into his head after Harry jokingly (or not) commented that he should've went "on" instead of coming back. Harry often thought about what would happen if they ended up together but, to be honest, he saw her as more of a sister than anything else.

Ginny pressed a soft kiss on Luna's temple once they reached the end before taking a seat beside Harry. 

"Who would've thought, right?" Ginny commented, nudging Harry's side. He only let out a chuckle in response, too entranced by the beautiful scene in front of him. The two brides faced each other with joined hands. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," The Ministry official began, successfully shushing the crowd who, before then, were murmuring in awe at the sight in front of them. Harry can't blame them though. Pansy and Luna were positively glowing with love for each other. "We are all gathered here today to witness the union of two faithful souls…"

* * *

"I now pronounce you bonded!" The Ministry official waved his wand over the newlyweds. A shower of golden shimmer and what looked to be little twinkling stars fell over the top of their heads and disappeared as if absorbed by their skin. In an act that surprised everyone and no one at the same time, Luna flung herself into the arms of her wife and kissed her. Luckily, Pansy seemed to anticipate it because her firm footing didn't falter as she wrapped her arms around Luna and kissed her back. Everyone rose from their seats and gave the newlyweds an enthusiastic round of applause. Wolf whistles were heard from Blaise, George, and Seamus. Harry clapped his hands in genuine happiness, not just for the lovely couple standing by the wedding arch but also for the air of camaraderie between their groups of friends that seemed to have flourished from their relationship.

* * *

"Morning. Sorry, I'm late." Harry begrudgingly greeted as he walked into Conference Room #3 of the Auror department, hair still slightly damp from the shower that he took before going to work. Head Auror Robards sent them urgent owls that morning, requesting for their presence at the meeting regarding the "Missing Wizards Case" that has been giving them a headache for the past few weeks 

The incident started with just a single missing wizard. Pollux Grimbleton, 46, was reported missing by his wife when he didn't come home from work. At first, Mrs. Grimbleton thought that her husband got sidetracked by an important business like a rare potions ingredient auction. However, when he failed to come home the next day, she finally decided to firecall the apothecary that he worked at. His husband's assistant said that the last time he saw Grimbleton was when he left the shop the night before. No one in Diagon Alley nor Knockturn Alley had seen him so Mrs. Grimbleton decided to go to the Aurors. The initial investigation showed that Grimbleton seemed to have disappeared in an empty alleyway as witnesses have said that they saw him walking down the street from his shop. One, the owner of a bread rolls cart, even saw him turning at a corner before he got distracted by customers wanting to purchase his goods. Not even the cart owner's memory could help in figuring out the manner in which Grimbleton has disappeared.

That was three weeks ago.

A week after that, another missing case was reported. This time, it was someone working in the Ministry. Michael Quinn, 22, a trainee Hit Wizard. Several days passed before he was reported missing. He often skipped training for a day or two but when four days passed and he was yet to be heard from, one of his friends decided to visit his flat only to find it empty. He lived alone and mostly kept to himself when he's at home so his neighbours have no idea where he could be. He was last scene at the Leaky Cauldron, after a night out with his fellow trainees. Not a single soul has seen him after that.

The following week arrived and another wizard was reported to be missing. Paul Rembrant, 34, a French wizard was the third victim. He was in the country for a week-long research conference on magical creatures. The organizers got alarmed when he failed to show up for the second to fourth days of the conference. The staff at the Prancing Pony, the inn that he was staying at, said that the last time they saw him was on the morning of the supposed second day of the conference when Rembrant went to ask about the sight seeing spots in England just before he left. He usually apparates, according to the staff, because he's not fond of travelling by Floo or Portkey unless it's absolutely necessary. It seems like he never even made it to the Apparition point before he disappeared.

Finally, the Auror office got a report last night of another missing wizard. William Proudfoot, 25, was a security guard at Gringotts. He and his partner, Brian Cole were on their way to the Leaky Cauldron to get a pint after their shift when Proudfoot just disappeared from Cole's side while the latter got distracted by the display at Quality Quidditch Supplies. According to Cole, he was just admiring the newly released HyperSweep 5000 but, when he turned to talk to Proudfoot, he found nothing but empty space beside him. He didn't know where his partner went because he didn't hear the "crack" that resulted from apparating. He highly doubts that there's a Portkey nearby.

Four victims in a span of nearly four weeks. None of them seem to be connected except for the fact that they are all males. Their ages do not coincide with each other, their jobs are different, and their blood status are of high variance. 

Harry was the one who deduced that these disappearances might be connected despite the difference in the victims' profiles. He saw the pattern by which these wizards disappeared; no signs of struggle, no evidence left, not even a magical signature implying that the unsub either didn't use magic or went through the means of covering up their tracks, and all gone roughly a week apart. Harry's belief was further strengthened by the disappearance of the latest victim. His ability to come up with these conclusions is the reason why he rejected the Head Auror position when it was offered to him. Solving these puzzles, connecting evidence that doesn't seem to be connected at first glance, and thinking outside the box, thinking like the criminal. That's what brings most of the excitement in Harry's life. Being Head Auror will reduce his job to just signing stacks of paperwork and dealing with the bureaucracy and politics of the workplace. He figured that he would go insane on the first day.

"Auror Potter," Robards greeted him back from the far end of the room. With a nod of his head, he gestured for Harry to sit down on the remaining seat beside Ron. Robards then turned to address everyone in the room. "I apologize for calling you all at this hour but I am sure that you understand the need to locate the victims and apprehend the criminal. We are running out of time and, if our observations are correct, we only have five days before another wizard gets abducted.

Now, I do believe that the Investigation Department has made a new discovery regarding the case?"

Harry nodded and fished a tiny folder from his robe pockets before tapping his wand on it, resizing the item into its original state. With another wave of his wand, the folder and its contents duplicated itself and flew in front of all the other Aurors present in the room.

"Auror Grunhild and Auror Thimble were both tasked to interview the victims' friends and relatives about their whereabouts," Harry began. "They have found out that our first three victims have all been to the same area days before their disappearance. South Kensington. Two of them, Grimbleton and Quinn, frequented a Muggle pub called 'The Crystal'. As for Mr. Rembrant, he actually arrived in the country a week before the conference started and have been to 'The Crystal' only once. I've already sent Grunhild and Thimble to ask around about Mr. Proudfoot's whereabouts before his disappearance."

"Good," Robards nodded in understanding. "I suggest visiting the Muggle pub. Take Weasley with you. There's no evidence that this is the work of Dark Wizards but we cannot say that it isn't either."

"Yes, sir." Harry and Ron both agreed. They were already planning on doing that but things will be much easier with official permission from the Auror office.

"As for the rest of you, I'm dividing you into three teams. One team will patrol South Kensington, either under a Disillusionment charm or a disguise to not arouse suspicion just in case our unsub resides in the area. The second team will further investigate the places in which the victims were last seen. Report back any and all findings that you may have that may help us in figuring out who the next victim will be or who the criminal is. Finally, the third team will focus on the remaining open cases that we have. Let me know if you need assistance on the more classified ones."

They were dismissed after the teams were divided and given more information and instruction. 

* * *

"Do you think we would still have the time to go to Pansy and Luna's for dinner?" Ron asked as they were gearing up to go to 'The Crystal'. The newlyweds just came back from their month long honeymoon in the Amazon two days ago. Having missed their friends, Pansy and Luna Lovegood-Parkinson arranged for a small get together in their home, The Lovegood Estate. It would just be a quaint dinner with all of their closest friends present. 

"Yeah, I think so." Harry responded after thinking about it for a short while. They just have to drop by 'The Crystal' and examine it. He doubts that they will catch the criminal today unless they reveal themselves. "Do you reckon we should go in Polyjuiced? Don't want to alert anyone just in case the unsub is already on their toes."

An hour later, Harry and Ron can be found sitting at a secluded booth in 'The Crystal', polyjuiced as two Muggles from Italy.

It was a fancier pub than the two Aurors were used to. It had an industrial feel to it with steel beams serving as posts and the light bulbs being enclosed in large glass spheres. The walls lacked any wallpaper which served its purpose of adding to the ambience with the help of the unpainted concrete and exposed brick walls. The floor was made of varnished wooden planks adorned with hexagonal pieces of varying shades of brown.

Harry and Ron ordered a basket of fish and chips with vinegar and two pints of beer. Harry figured that they really shouldn't be drinking on duty but having anything but beer will definitely arouse suspicion.

While eating and drinking, the two of them looked around as discreetly as possible, taking in the general scene of the pub. It was just before noon so business is still quite slow, just a few workers dropping by for an early lunch. There are currently only four members of the staff on the floor including the bartender, two waitresses, and the host. Nothing seem to be out of place. One of the waitresses set down their food on their table with a slight frown but that's to be expected from anyone that's part of the food service industry. 

A few minutes into their meal, Harry and Ron heard a rumbustious laugh from the nearby table. They turned their heads to see a red-faced man gripping one of the waitresses by the wrist in an attempt to pull her onto his lap. The waitress was struggling against the man's grip while looking around for help with alarmed eyes. This seemed to be a common occurence in the pub, judging by the look on the other patrons' faces. Some of them only looked at the scene in amusement before tucking back into their meals. All the while, the waitress was still trying to pry herself from the man's firm grip. Ron was just about to stand up and intervene when the other waitress rushed to her co-worker's side.

"Sir, I would suggest you get your hands off her," She said in a faux sweet voice. Despite the smiling expression on the waitress' face, Harry could see that her jaw was tensed and that the man was three seconds away from being punched. "The service that you are looking for is not available at this establishment nor will we ever offer it."

"Aww… don't be like that, sweets." The man slurred, tightening his grip on the struggling waitress. "You can join us if you want."

At this point, the fake sweet look disappeared from the waitress' face and she looked like she was about to use force on this man but before anyone can make a move, the bartender left his station and positioned himself beside his co-workers. He laid a hand on the drunk man's arm.

"Sir, I would have to ask you to leave the premises if you don't stop harassing our staff." He threatened, his hold onto the man's arm turning into a firmer grip by the second until Harry could see the discomfort slide into the man's features. After a few moments of trying to endure the pain brought by the bartender's grip, the man finally let go of the waitress' arm. Her co-worker immediately went to her side to console her. 

"Fine!" The man exclaimed, pulling away from the bartender's grip. The two of them glared at each other for some time before the drunk man went back to his drink while grumbling. "A man can't have fun anymore these days… too many righteous bastards."

The bartender glared at him for a little while longer but said nothing. Instead, he went back to his station behind the bar. He occasionally glanced to where the man is seated, perhaps to keep an eye on him. The two waitresses also steered clear of his area, only going near him to place the bill on his table. They seemed tense for the entire duration that the man remained in the pub. They only relaxed when he finally left five minutes later.

"That was eventful." Ron commented, grabbing his pint and taking a long swig from it. Harry saw his bestfriend discreetly take out his wand to cast a Muffliato charm over them. "Do you think any of them is our unsub?"

Harry shrugged, grabbing a chip and popping it into his mouth. The starchy saltiness of the fried food satisfied his tastebuds. "The criminal has to be a witch or wizard. I've got a hunch that it's one of the staff but we can't know for sure unless we see any of them perform magic."

"That's true," Ron agreed. "I say let's go back here tomorrow as different Muggles and see what happens. Maybe we can even strike up a conversation with the bartender. This place looks good but it makes me uneasy. I got a feeling that what we just saw happens on a regular basis."

"Me too." Harry sighed and finished his beer. "I'll have Grunhild and Thimble get more information about this pub and its staff. We need to get their names to find out if any of them are wizards or witches."

* * *

After jotting down their observations, Harry went back to Grimmauld Place to get ready for dinner at the Parkinson-Lovegood residence. His wedding-slash-housewarming gift for the newlyweds sat on the coffee table in the living room, ready to be picked up before he leaves. The couple refused to accept any gifts immediately after the wedding because they would be off to their honeymoon and wouldn't have time to sort through them. Instead, they told their friends to bring their gifts when they return or to send it to them via owl post.

At around 5PM, Harry travelled via Floo to Pansy and Luna's home with his gift and a bottle of Goblin-made sherry from the 1940s.

"Harry, is that you?" Luna's melodic voice was the first thing he heard upon stepping out of the fireplace. A few seconds later, Harry saw his friend emerge from the corner wearing a sunshine yellow summer dress with her long hair styled in a plait that falls to her back. She was barefooted again and he could see each of her toenails painted in different colours. 

"Luna!" Harry greeted as the blonde witch hugged him. "How are you? How's the trip?"

"Quite exhilarating," Luna said with a smile. "We had such a great time exploring the forests. Did you know that there's a song bird called a Sqatoo that creates sexual tension between the most compatible people that hear its song?"

"Erm…no...?"

"It's all good fun actually," The blonde narrated, leading Harry into the dining room where Pansy is directing dishes into the table with graceful waves of her wand. "A flock of them stayed at Pansy and I's campsite for two days. We had to chase them away before we starve and dehydrate ourselves to death."

"Merlin's beard…if it isn't Harry James Potter!" Pansy greeted once she caught sight of him. 

"Hello, Pansy Parkinson." Harry greeted back in an equally teasing tone. The two of them have become rather close friends through the years. At first, it was just because of Harry wanting to find Draco and thus turning to the latter's closest friend for information. However, with Pansy growing closer and closer to Luna, she has somehow integrated herself into their friendship circle. Harry has no complaints though. The former Slytherin is a fierce and loyal friend. She's a force to be reckoned with and will fight tooth-and-nail to get something she wants. Of course, being raised as a pureblood Slytherin, said fighting often involves negotations and a little bit of bribing and manipulation instead of actual brute force. Despite being their friend, Pansy never lets a day or social gathering pass without teasing each and everyone of what she dubbed as "The Gryffindor Bunch". For Harry, that means dramatically being called by his full name in the first twenty minutes of any of their gathering before Pansy goes on to call him "Henry".

"Ah, that's Pansy Parkinson-Lovegood to you, love." She corrected before letting out a gasp at the gifts that Harry was holding. Pansy gently took the bottle of sherry from his hand and examined it closely. "Morgana's saggy tits… Is this actual Goblin-made sherry? Goblin-made sherry from the 1940s? A decade after sherries were invented? Harry James Potter, you are a man after my own heart. Too bad I don't like men, though."

Harry let out a laugh and reached into his pocket to get his gift for the newlyweds. He held it out to the two of them with a cheerful "Congratulations". The package was small. A box that fit right into one's palm. 

"Thank you, Harry." Luna said with a soft smile as she took the box while Pansy walked closer to her wife and inspected the little package. They opened it to reveal a small image, barely the size of a thumb.

"Is it…a mailing stamp?" Pansy inquired with genuine confusion in her eyes as she picked up the small image and held it up. It looked like a mailing stamp but instead of paper, the image was printed on a tiny canvass enclosed in a wooden frame.

"Oh, wait." Harry said before taking out his wand and tapping it on the item in Pansy's hand. Slowly, the image started to expand until it reverted back to its original size. Pansy now held a portrait in her hands and Harry smiled at their awed reactions.

"Wow…" The couple breathed out. Harry commissioned an artist to make a magical portrait for the newlyweds. While they did pose for their own portraits, Harry wanted to preserve the memory of their wedding day, where the two brides stood face-to-face in front of the wedding arch, holding each other's hands, and looking at the other with genuine expressions of love and happiness. That's what his two friends are looking at, as of the moment. Their wedding in the eyes of the crowd. Their relationship in a way that their friends saw it. Portrait Pansy looked down on their intertwined hands and looked back up to Portrait Luna's eyes. They were glowing. It's like they're enclosed in their own little bubble. A bubble that no one dared to pop.

"Thank you, Harry…" Pansy said softly, looking at Harry with glassy eyes. She blinked the incoming tears away and went over to the fireplace to hang the portrait above the mantlepiece.

"It's beautiful," Luna murmured, eyes equally as glassy as her wife's. "Thank you so much."

And before he knew it, Harry was engulfed in a group hug with the newlyweds. It was at this point that the fireplace flared to life with the arrival of their friends.

"Oh, are we doing this now?" Harry heard Ron say before he felt his bestfriend join the hug. 

"Well, if you insist." Hermione said, tone laced with amusement before she joined them as well.

From within the group, Pansy let out a grumble as she scrunched her face in fake disgust.

"Ugh," She exclaimed before going on a sarcastic monologue that never fails to amuse them. "Look at me…surrounded by Gryffindors. Married to a Ravenclaw whose closest friends are Gryffindors. What would my Father think? My poor Mother will sob for days upon end! I shall be disowned!"

The Gryffindors and Ravenclaw in question just laughed at her antics before they all pulled away and made their way over to the dining room.

"Oh, wow…" Harry heard Hermione gasp. He turned around and saw her gazing at the portrait with awe filled eyes. "This is so beautiful! Who made this?"

"What?" Ron asked, turning back to look at the portrait hanging above the mantlepiece. His mouth fell open at the sight before him. "Holy shit… That's awesome! They're glowing…"

"It's a gift from Harry. He had it made for us." Luna said from the kitchen. The metal clinking of utensils can be heard as the dining table is being set. The delicious smell of food also wafted throughout the quaint house.

"You've successfully outdone yourself, mate." Ron commented, patting Harry's shoulder.

"That's really so sweet of you, Harry," Hermione said, her face painted with a soft smiling expression, clearly touched by Harry's gift. Harry smiled back, his cheeks slightly heating up at the attention that he's gift was getting. He's still quite glad that he chose to give Pansy and Luna that portrait, to remind them of how much they love each other on a daily basis despite the two of them clearly expressing it since day one. 

"Hello, fuckers!" The group heard a familiar voice yell from the receiving area just as they were about to sit down. Pansy and Hermione both rolled their eyes and looked expectantly at the direction from which the voice sounded.

"Blaise," Pansy called out. "Get your ass in here!"

"Yes, your Highness!" Blaise Zabini answered, emerging from the corner with Neville and Ginny behind him. "I have brought valuable guests! Oh, Milly and and Daph are going to be late. Apparently, little Celestine is having a bout of accidental magic and have successfully vanished all of the doors in their house.

The rest of the group exchanged pleasantries with the newcomers, kissing each other's cheeks, clapping each other's back, and, most importantly, handing over their gifts to the newlyweds. These gifts were set on the coffee table in the living room for them to open together after dinner.

They were joined by Millicent and Daphne just a few minutes after they have started digging into the dishes that both Pansy and Luna worked hard to cook. The evening passed by in a jolly manner with the newlyweds telling them stories about their month long honeymoon – often including too much information courtesy of Luna – and with the rest of the group catching them up on news about Wizarding London. Millicent and Daphne regaled them all with stories about their adopted daughter, Celestine. Neville, as the current Herbology professor, told tales about Hogwarts while Ginny talked about her time as chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. Blaise boasted about his latest sexual conquests and how he now has blackmail material against half of the pureblood circles that he's in. Ron and Hermione, on the other hand, shared their plans to renovate their house to prepare for any future children that they might have. All Harry could do was listen to his friends' tales. He couldn't really share anything with them seeing as Auror matters are confidential and any time spend outside the Ministry is spent on finding clues either about Draco's whereabouts or about the latest case that they have at hand. Harry tells himself that he is perfectly content with hearing about his friends' lives and that he doesn't need to do anything spontaneous or exciting. He just has to focus on his job for the time being.

Harry rarely has the time to mull over his life, given his busy schedule but whenever he does, he finds that he is quite unsatisfied about what it has become. Yes, he has his friends that he loves and deeply cares for no matter how strange their circle has become. He doesn't have a mad man chasing him across the country intent on murdering him. He's a well-respected Auror and his life is mostly peaceful now since the excitement over "The Saviour" is wearing off. Harry really can't say that his life is boring because being an Auror is as exciting as it gets. They do have to deal with multitudes of paperwork after every case but there's still action in his line of work. However, despite the honour that goes with being an Auror, he doesn't really get the satisfaction that he expected. Despite the variety of cases that he gets involved in, he still thinks that his life has become monotonous in a not-so-good way. Harry thinks that he should like monotony. He thinks that he ought to appreciate it after almost eight years of being subjected to the unknown and not knowing whether he'll survive the next ordeal that he'll face. But he finds that he doesn't like this particular type of monotony. 

If he's being perfectly honest with himself, nothing much is keeping him from resigning from his position and quitting the Auror force altogether. He's only keeping his job because it's what is expected of him, he doesn't really know what to do with his life otherwise, and he's still as determined as ever to track down Draco Malfoy, wherever that git is.

It makes Harry's heart ache whenever he thinks about the fact that everyone has already seemed to forget about Draco. While he's still doing everything he can to atleast know about the blond's wherebouts and ensure that he's okay, others have already moved on with their lives. By others, he meant the former Slytherins who have known Draco far longer than anyone else. Harry's happy that his friends are happy with their lives but he often wonders if they ever think about Draco. He approached Pansy about it a few years ago – probably after his 15th visit to get information about the blond – but she shut him down and told him that if Draco doesn't want to be found, he ought to be left alone. She trusts that his bestfriend is now living the peaceful life that he always longed for. Although, she still refused to show him the letter Draco wrote for her nor did she answer the question of whether or not she's still in correspondence with him. Harry and Pansy had quite the shouting match in her office at The Quibbler and she wasn't even fazed by the threat of being accused of "withholding evidence". In the end, they have agreed to not talk about Draco anymore lest Pansy hexes his bollocks off. It's not only Pansy, though. Two years into handling the Malfoy Manor case Ron and Hermione have started to look at him weirdly, similar to how they did in fifth year when they thought he was being possessed by Voldemort, especially during their weekly dinners where Harry would go on and on about his theories, the memories he was presented with, and anything that involves the Malfoy Manor case. The next week, Hermione snapped and told him that he's "being way too obsessed with Malfoy, Harry! You should really give that case to a different Auror. Someone without any prior attachments to him. If you don't do it, I'll tell Robards to get you off that case myself". Since then, he didn't talk about the Malfoy Manor case anymore. Things would probably progress faster if he had his friends' help but Hermione and Pansy share the same sentiment: Draco Malfoy wouldn't be found if he doesn't want to be found. 

And thus, Harry kept his investigation to himself throughout the years. Not even Robards questioned him.

* * *

"Open ours next!" Daphne squealed, pointing to a box wrapped in glittery silver wrapping paper. After dinner, they all gather in the living room to watch Pansy and Luna open their wedding presents. One by one, they all claimed a spot in the small area, each of them with a glass of sherry in one hand. Harry sat on one of the armrests of the chair that Hermione is sitting on while Ron sat on the floor in front of it, letting Hermione run her hands through her husband's hair.

Pansy picked up Daphne and Millicent's gift for them and handed it over for Luna to open. Their gift turned out to be a copy of "McAllister's Legendary Guide to Dragons, Nundus, Chimaeras, and other Deadly Creatures", a rare book on the most dangerous and magnificent of magical creatures. It is rumored that there are only seven copies of the said book in existence. Daphne and Millicent must have paid a fortune for that certain copy.

Ron and Hermione gave Pansy and Luna a wizarding clock for their home, similar to what the Weasleys have. They could add more people there in the future if they want. For now, there are only two hands on it, both pointing at "home". 

Nevile's gift was a Wiggentree sapling that the newlyweds can plant outside. It can protect them against dark creatures, not that there's any imminent threat of a creature uprising but it's still such a touching gift.

Ginny gave them VIP tickets to the upcoming Quidditch match between the Holyhead Harpies and Puddlemere United as well as invitations to a gala that Pansy has wanted to attend for a long time but couldn't due to her busy schedule.

Blaise, on the other hand, had the most interesting gift. One that heated up everyone's cheeks in embarassment – everyone except for Luna, Pansy, and Blaise that is. 

"Is that…" Hermione began, cheeks flushed. She coughed as Luna held up the item to inspect it before drinking deeply from her wine glass. 

"A vibrator, my friends!" Blaise proudly announced. "Battery operated, of course. But do not fret, I have made adjustments to it to make sure that it works properly in a magical environment."

Harry saw Pansy's eyes darken as she looked at the phallic item in her wife's hand, probably already imagining their future bedroom activities that will involve the said item. Luna only stared at it curiously, looking at the pink vibrator in from every angle until she found whatever it was that she was looking for. Harry realized that she found it when the object started to make a low whirring sound while it vibrated in her hand.

"We should go visit a Sqatoo's nest with this next time, darling!" Luna exclaimed excitedly. "Thank you, Blaise."

"It's a kind of song bird that sings to make people horny." Pansy supplied with a chuckle at their friends' questioning looks. The others let out varying sounds of understanding before they shared a good laugh, not because they find anything particularly funny but because of how they could feel the strong bond of friendship that they shared.

It was then that Harry saw the lone package sitting on the mantelpiece, just below the portrait that he gave. 

"Hey," He called the others' attention once they calmed down. "Who's that one from?" 

"What?"

"Looks like you got another wedding gift."

"Henry," Pansy said in a fake posh voice. "Be a dear and fetch it for me, will you?

"You're literally holding your wand, Parkinson." Harry replied but he was already standing to get the package. It was a medium sized golden pouch that seemed to hold two boxes inside. Harry tapped his wand on it to check for jinxes. When the scan came up clear, he picked it up and turned it in his hand to check for any tags that would indicate who the sender is.

His eyes widened and he felt his heart stop. 

"Harry?" He heard Ginny's voice call out to him. "What is it? Who's it from?"

His mouth suddenly became dry that he head to swallow and clear his throat before attempting to speak but even then he doesn't know what to say. He held up the item towards his face to further examine the tag on it. The pouch only had a small brown tag attached to it. It had no name nor signature. It only had an image, a drawing of a flower. It's a flower so familiar to Harry for he spent the last five years staring at a copy of it imprinted on a wax seal. 

"It's…" He began to say but his voice still came out weak so he cleared his throat before trying again. "It's…It's a gift from Draco?"

There's no name nor signature written on the tag but Harry can recognize that flower anywhere especially in the way that it was drawn; the way the petals blossomed and the stems slightly curved. For the flower that's currently staring at him is the same flower on the wax seal of the letter that Draco wrote to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm so sorry for ending this chapter on a cliffhanger. I had an outline for this but the chapter got too long so I had to split the outline so this fic will probably be a 5-6 chaptered fic. 😅
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you're enjoying this so far! 💖
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated. If there are any errors (spelling and/or grammatical) please let me know! I try to proofread my chapters before publishing them but I still miss some mistakes.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter for hints and updates on my writing progress: @ysaintlorraine
> 
> Next update: September 3 (?)


	4. Chasing

"A gift from who?" Hermione asked, having heard what Harry said but not really understanding nor believing the words that came out from his mouth.

"Draco Malfoy." Harry said slowly and clearly to the room. He looked around to see the surprised look on everyone's faces. Well, everyone aside from Pansy and Blaise. Even Daphne and Millicent's foreheads were scrunched in both confusion and absolute shock. The two other Slytherins, on the other hand, have matching calculating looks. Their gazes were fixed on the pouch in Harry's hand, brows furrowed at the slightest. 

"Give it to me." Pansy said with an even tone as she held out her hand towards Harry. 

"Was he here? Did you see him?" Harry asked, holding the pouch tightly. He tried to keep his tone as unbothered as possible even though all he wants to do right now is to interrogate Pansy and persuade her to tell him everything that he needs to know about Draco.

"No." was Pansy's clipped response.

"We have to check the wards, the Floo system--" Hermione started to say. "Did this arrive by owl? And are we absolutely sure that it's from Draco? I think we ought to examine it…"

"I know this symbol. I know this flower. It's on the wax seal of his letter." Harry informed them, struggling to keep his voice even. "It's a daffodil."

"Are you absolute sure, mate? Flowers tend to look the same. Even flowers of the same species." Ron said, skeptical and a bit worried that Harry seems to have memorized every detail that's related to Draco. 

Harry just shook his head in disagreement.

"It's the same symbol. I'm sure of it. I know that this is from Dra-- Malfoy. Here, I'll show you." He insisted, taking out his wand and performing a spell different from the curse detection spell that he performed earlier. This time, it's a spell that exposes any magical signature left on an object. Harry stared at the item that he's holding, waiting for Draco's distinct magical signature to emerge. The room was quiet as everyone held their breaths, waiting. However, after a few moments, nothing happened. Harry's brows furrowed in confusion. He expected the object to have leftover magic on it considering the way the pouch seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

"Harry--" Harry heard Hermione worriedly call out his name, probably concerned at the way that he's acting. He couldn't blame her though. He also couldn't blame any of his friends. All this time they thought that he has already given up on finding Draco. Harry has kept his investigation private, not involving anyone else but himself lest he gets dubbed as obsessive once again. 

Hermione was just about to say something else when she was cut off by Pansy standing from the couch and swiftly snatching away the pouch in Harry's hand. 

"Hey!"

"Oh, shush." The raven-haired woman waved Harry's protest off with a flick of her hand. She then sat back down beside her wife and opened the pouch, taking out the two small boxes that it held inside. She placed one of them on her lap and opened the other. "Huh…"

Luna looked over her wife's shoulder while the rest of the group waited. 

"It's a necklace…or an amulet?" Pansy said, lifting the jewelry from inside the box. The teardrop shaped olive green gem served as its pendant. It was quite large, about the size of a thumb, and half of it seems to be enclosed in intricate vine-like patterns. The peridot gem glimmered as it hung from its silver Singapore chain. 

"There's a note." Luna pointed out as she reached for the now empty box. There, tucked underneath the cushion that the necklace rested on, was a small piece of rolled parchment. The blonde unrolled it and it was such a tiny piece of paper that Harry doubts that there's even anything written in there aside from a single word. Mayhaps a "Congratulations". However, Luna seems to be reading something on it that's longer than just a single word. She then began to read it out loud, deeming the note proper enough to be broadcasted among their friends. 

"Congratulations to the both of you. These are enchanted necklaces. It will heat up once it senses danger befall the other pair's wearer. It also serves as a portkey that will immediately transport you to your beloved. May the two of you live long and prosper in each other's love."

How Draco has managed to fit quite a wordy message in such a tiny piece of parchment, Harry has no idea. His confusion is overpowered by the shock and relief at finally hearing from the missing Malfoy after all this time. He also had the strong urge to snatch the note away from Luna and overanalyze it in hopes of finding clues, codes, hidden messages, or anything that will lead him to where the blond is. Harry stomped that urge down in favor of watching Luna open the other box that is obviously meant for her.

This other necklace looked quite similar to the one Pansy is holding. However, their sole difference lie in the gem. Whilst Pansy's was a clear-cut, olive-coloured gem, the one on Luna's necklace was of a deep purple shade; an amethyst. 

Harry can't exactly tell how or why but he can feel the magic pulsing from these two necklaces. They are obviously entwined with intricate spellwork. 

"He made them himself," Pansy commented before clarifying as she gazed at the pendant of her necklace with a fond expression. "The enchantments. He has always been good with those.

"That's a very sweet gift," Hermione said. "But the fact remains that we didn't know how it got here. Did any of you feel the wards shift? Did it come via owl post? Did he come by via Floo?"

Pansy shook her head.

"I don't think so. Our wards are very secure and no one can get through them unless one of us permits it. Harry was the first one to arrive via Floo and I don't recall seeing this package on the mantlepiece while we were hanging up the portrait. As for owls, the only owl that we've ever received since we got home is the one from my parents, inviting us over for brunch tomorrow."

"I see…" Hermione trailed off, sitting back with pursed lips and a thoughtful expression, perhaps thinking about the ways in which an object can be transported undetected.

"Maybe it'll be better if we check the wards just in case?" Ron suggested, getting up from his position on the floor and taking his wand out.

Everyone, including the newlyweds, obliged and soon Harry, Ron, and Hermione were doing diagnostic spells on the wards and the Floo. In the end, they didn't detect any form of disturbance. 

"Didn't Draco fix the Vanishing Cabinet back when you were all in sixth year?" Luna asked out of the blue after the trio finished casting their spells. Everyone seemed to freeze despite the length of time that has passed since the year when Death Eaters have managed to get into Hogwarts. 

"Yeah…" Harry was the one to speak up this time. He felt the urge to confirm Luna's query despite everyone in the room already knowing it. 

"What if he used a Vanishing Cabinet?" The former Ravenclaw asked again.

"But, there would have to be another Vanishing Cabinet here for him to do that." Hermione countered.

"Besides, the pouch was found on the mantlepiece." Ginny added, speaking for the first time since Harry saw the gift from Draco.

"I mean," Luna started to say. "What if he used the spellwork in the cabinet and modified it?"

"What, like, create his own spell?" Ron asked, letting out a snort as if the idea of Draco creating his own spell is as ridiculous as it can get. Harry, on the other hand, continued to listen to Luna and tried to follow her logic.

"It could be less of a creation and more of a modification to an existing spell. Maybe, the vanishing spell…" She trailed off, looking at the amethyst pendant on her necklace before turning to her wife who was currently reading the note Draco left. "Put it on me?"

Pansy jumped slightly, startled at suddenly being addressed. She then smiled at Luna and placed the note on her lap before putting the necklace on her spouse's neck. Luna returned the favor by doing the same for Pansy.

"The Vanishing spell can be a possible base for a more complex spell." Blaise said from his seat, breaking his own silence. He looked pensive, holding the glass of wine in his hand and staring at the fire flickering in the fireplace. 

"Yes but it would be extremely difficult," Hermione interjected. "There are a lot of factors involved: the exact coordinates of the place, the distance from the sender to the receiver, the wards that protect the property. Not to mention enchantments or spellworks in the object to be transported that should remain intact all throughout the process."

"A house-elf, maybe?" Daphne supplied from beside Millicent.

"Could be," Hermione nodded, although her face held an expression that says that she's not at all fond of house-elves being used for errands like these. "He can still summon them anytime right? From what I've heard, Malfoy didn't set any of them free."

"Yes," Pansy confirmed, letting out a sigh as she placed the pouch and empty boxes on the coffee table along with the small note. Harry took this opportunity to grab the note and read it for himself. He almost shivered at the familiar – albeit tiny – script. He practically has Draco's handwriting imprinted on his brain by the number of times he has read and re-read the letter. "But, our wards are attuned to elves as well. We would feel any sign of disturbance, be it an animal, a house-elf, or an insect. We can't have a Skeeter-wannabe disturbing our privacy."

"Your wards can detect insects?" Neville suddenly asked. 

"Yeah, but it's only a slight tingle. The smaller the disturbance, the less we feel it." Luna replied.

"I see…" Neville trailed off, looking thoughtful. "I've been trying different things to keep pests away from my plants but insectides are usually either too weak or too toxic. I tried making my own batch of insectides but it's quite time consumming. Besides, it will be better to catch the insects. Maybe some of them are potions ingredient worthy."

"I'll help you out with that, Nev." Luna offered with a soft smile. However, before Neville can reply he was cut off by Ron.

"So, that leaves us with the spell."

"A very complex spell." Hermione supplied.

"Draco has always been good with charms." Millicent commented. "He once turned my cat blue back in second year and no one could reverse spell. Not even the seventh years."

"Who knows what he could've already achieved in the last five years…" Daphne added.

"I, for one, am glad to hear from the git." Pansy said, her face scrunched in an almost sneer although she was gently clutching the pendant of her necklace. "Atleast, we now know that he's alive and apparently has enough money to purchase such valuable gifts."

And she's right. Despite the lack of information in the note, the gift itself held a message that Draco was faring well. Harry tried not to smile at that fact but, along with that small spark of joy, he also felt uneasy. Should he still continue looking for him? If Draco was already doing well, Harry will probably just disturb whatever peace he has already found. That question was answered as Harry looked around the room and at their unusual circle of friends. He feels like something is missing and he has an inkling feeling as to what – or who – that something is. Judging by the faraway expression in the former Slytherins' eyes, Harry figures that they also want to see Draco again. 

In the end, Pansy insisted that they not look deeper into it and they all agreed to let the matter go for the time being seeing as nothing bad happened. It seems like Draco's one and only goal is to deliver Pansy and Luna's wedding present. They all hung out for a few more hours before they all started to leave one-by-one. Daphne and Millicent were the first to go home despite being the last ones to arrive. "Parenthood" Blaise has said with a shrug as they watched the two of them leave. Neville and Ginny were next, saying that they have classes in the morning. They were followed by Ron and Hermione and finally Blaise who winked at the newlywed couple and wished them luck on using his gift. Pansy merely rolled her eyes while Luna laughed.

"I should get going too." Harry said, a few moments after Blaise left. He went on over to Pansy and Luna and hugged the two of them, giving each woman a kiss on the cheek. "It was really nice to spend some time with the two of you. Congratulations again. I look forward to having you back on Game Nights to whoop Blaise's and Neville's asses."

Pansy chuckled and patted his back. He was just about to leave when Luna called his name and pushed the golden pouch containing one of the boxes into his hand. Harry looked at her, mildly shocked and confused. Pansy raised an eyebrow at her wife.

"I think you'll need this, Harry. Tell Draco we said 'thanks' and that we're looking forward to having him over for brunch in the future." was all she said before she smiled at him cryptically. 

"Erm… Thanks, Luna." Harry said, still confused but thankful as well. He would need to examine the items closer and using more complex spells to see if any trace of magical signature was left. 

"Come now, love. I'm sure you're excited to test out Blaise's wonderful present." And with that, Luna grabbed her wife along with the box Blaise's gift has came in before dragging her upstairs. Probably to their bedroom.

Harry shook his head with a chuckle. He then put the pouch inside his pocket and Flooed home.

* * *

Harry sat in his study for a few more hours before going to bed that night. He laid out the pouch and box Luna gave him on the desk to examine. A few more spells told him that there really isn't any trace of magic left on the pouch itself, which is odd since if a spell was used to transport it then there should still be residual spellwork. Harry thought that maybe it was too subtle to detect. 

Finding the examination on the pouch to be inconclusive, he moved on to the box. It was a simple box, really. The exterior of it was made of a silver semi-metallic material. Inside, it had a small cushion to hold the jewelry. Nothing too fancy. He cast the same spells that he did on the pouch. Finally, after a few tries, a silvery mist emerged. Draco's magical signature. It was so faint that it resembled the steam coming from the mug of tea that he was drinking. Harry decided to cast a preservation charm on it and keep it in a safe place. He wasn't about to let this single thread connecting him to Draco be wasted. 

The next morning, Harry was woken up by someone firecalling him. He got up and quickly put on a robe before rushing downstairs to answer.

"Good morning, Sir," Auror Felicity Thimble greeted him a little nervously. She's one of the Aurors that Harry assigned to help him with The Missing Wizards case. She and Grunhild are fairly new. They've been in the task force for just a little over three years but they're both talented and trustworthy. Not to mention they can get the job done as soon as humanly possible. "I'm sorry to call you this early but Daisy and I have just finished the reports on The Crystal's staff. You said that the case is time sensitive so any and all discoveries should be reported immediately. May we come through?"

"That's fine," Harry assured her, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Give me fifteen minutes and I'll let you through."

Roughly fifteen minutes later, he's sat by the dining table with Ron, who he called as soon as he was done with the firecall, in front of Aurors Felicity Thimble and Daisy Grunhild. They handed him a folder filled with information about The Crystal. 

"There are a total of five people working in The Crystal," Thimble started. "One cook, two waitresses, a host, and a bartender. This includes the owners, Joseph and Julia Freeman, who are both working as the bartender and as one of the waitresses respectively."

"They're siblings," Grunhild added just as Ron was just about to ask. "They came here from the U.S. three years ago. And yes, they are both magical. They both attended Ilvermorny but Joseph dropped out a year before graduating while Julia only made it to fifth year before she was expelled."

"Expelled? Why?" Ron asked.

"Something about selling illegal substances in school," Thimble supplied. "And by illegal, we mean rare potions ingredients that need approval from MACUSA before one even thinks about acquiring them."

"What, like Unicorn's blood?"

"We don't know. Both Ilvermorny and MACUSA officials are kind of…stingy, to say the least. They require permission from the Minister of Magic himself before they give us all the information we need."

"That's ridiculous!" Ron exclaimed. "It'll take us a whole week – at the very least – to get the necessary papers and that is if Harry pulls out his 'I saved the wizarding world, the least you could do is prioritize my request' card."

"The thing is," Grunhild continued. "Their records have been clean since then. They've been good citizens and it seems like they moved here to start a new life. Not to mention, their immigration papers are all in order."

"I think we should still observe them, just in case." Harry suggested.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "A witch and a wizard working in a place where two of our victims often go to. Maybe we should do a stakeout, either at The Crystal or at their house."

* * *

Later that evening, Harry and Ron are back at 'The Crystal' polyjuiced as different Muggles. This time, they sat by the bar and ordered pints of beer from Joseph, the bartender.

"Here you go, lads." Joseph said, setting down their drinks in front of them. His accent was very convincing. One would have to listen quite closely and know what they're listening for to detect that slight American accent. 

"Say," Harry called out just as Joseph was about to walk away. His voice adopted the same low, grumbling tone of the Swedish tourist that they nicked the hairs from. "My friend and I are wondering if you can suggest some really awesome sightseeing spots? We just got here a few days ago and have already exhausted most of the museums."

Joseph let out a breath that resembled a chuckle before cocking his head to the side.

"I'm afraid I can't help you with that one, lads," He said. "I'm fairly new here as well and the only tourist spots I know are those that you probably already know."

"Let me guess… American?" Ron teased with a wink making Joseph laugh and shrug.

"You got that right. Born and raised in New York." He said proudly, making his American accent more prominent.

"Ah, I knew it. Spent a whole month in the country, especially up North. Got lured in by the hustle and bustle of the city life, stayed for the pizza." Ron narrated convincingly before drinking from his pint. Joseph chuckled while Harry made a show of rolling his eyes.

"He would've stayed for good too but his wife will have his head if he did." Harry joked then pretended to glance at the bartender's name tag. "So, Joseph, what brings you to England?"

Being trained Aurors, Harry and Ron both noticed the slightest way in which Joseph's posture stiffened. It was the only sign that he was bothered by the question. The man cleared his throat and plastered on a smile. 

"Well, you gotta run away from the place that hurt you, right?" Joseph said, picking up a glass and starting to clean it using a white cloth, similiar to how bartenders are usually seen doing. "Gotta start anew. My sister and I thought about going to Asia or some other far away country but we can only speak English so we went here. Can't say it's the best decision but we're making do with what we have. It was pure luck that the previous owner of this place wanted to venture into other business opportunities so he sold us this pub for two thirds of its original price. We get decent money and a place to sleep. A shit ton better than what we had before, to be honest."

"So, you also live here?" Ron asked. "What, like above the pub?"

"Yeah. Cuts down the costs and we don't have to travel to and from home if home is right here."

"True." 

A loud and familiar laugh cut off their conversation and the three men looked to see the man from yesterday, the one who made a scene and harassed one of the staff. Harry and Ron heard Joseph let out an impatient huff as the man behind them kept on laughing and chatting quite loudly with anyone who bothers to listen. 

"Fucking son of a bitch is back again." The bartender muttered under his breath. 

"Is he a regular here?" Harry asked.

"He comes here a few nights a week. He's rowdy and rude and I would honestly kick him out but rumor has it that he's part of some gang and I don't fancy bringing trouble into my pub." Joseph explained before letting out a sigh. At that moment, one of the waitresses – Julia, Joseph's sister – walked over to the bar with an empty serving tray on her side.

"The usual for Hubert." She says with an exhausted sigh. Judging by the way Joseph glanced at the loud man, they assumed that that was "Hubert". Looking at the siblings up close, Harry and Ron could definitely see the similarities between them. They have the same eye shape and color. Their cupid's bow arched in a similar way despite Julia's lips being fuller than her brother's. The Aurors also figured that they would share the same brown hair that Joseph is sporting if Julia didn't have hers bleached blonde.

"Yesterday," The bartender leaned in and spoke lowly after he handed over Hubert's pint of beer to Julia. "He had the audacity to harass my staff and lay his filthy hands on Ophelia. Would've kicked him out in a heartbeat, business be damned. Luckily, the old man calmed down. But, Ophelia was so traumatised that she asked for the week off."

"You ought to report him to the police." Harry suggested, draining his mug of beer.

"Can't. The police don't like us. Who do you think they'll believe? A couple of immigrants or a dude who has spent all his life in this country and will most likely die here too?"

"Touché." Ron said, lifting his mug as a sign of agreement.

The rest of the night went by quite calmly despite Hubert's boisterous laugh that seemed to constantly fill the pub's atmosphere. Harry and Ron took turns going to the loo to drink more of the polyjuice potion. At half past 10, they decided to go back to Grimmauld Place to reconvene about their observations and discoveries.

* * *

"Joseph seems like an honest man." Ron commented as Harry set down a mug lf tea in front of him. Their case files were scattered all over the table as they made sense of everything that has happened so far. They need to be quick lest they risk the disappearance of another wizard. 

Harry hummed in reply to his bestfriend's statement, sitting down on the dining chair in front of Ron and sipping from his own mug.

"He sounds like he hates Hubert but not enough to kidnap or murder the man." Harry murmured. 

"Well, he isn't the aggressive sibling. He just dropped out of school didn't he? Probably got tired of all the academic shenanigans. It's his sister who got expelled."

"True. She's the one who got involved in illicit activities but dealing with rare potions ingredients is a far cry from kidnapping."

"Eh, we can't rule anything out, mate. Remember the Barkley case?"

Harry did remember the Barkley case. It was one of the most bizarre cases that they've ever come across in years. It started off as a series of robberies reported to junior aurors. In time, the things that were taken started to escalate. From common quills in the school supplies shop to a whole bottle of unicorn tears from the apothecary. The witnesses all saw different people. Sometimes it was a small child, barely of Hogwarts age. Other times it was a young woman or an old man. In the end, they found out that it was just one person, an old woman named Peggy Barkley who was an expert in brewing a wide array of potions, including the Polyjuice potion. She was dying from an incurable disease and had written a bucketlist for herself. The list specifically said "to have an item from each store in Diagon Alley for FREE" along with a few more ramblings of a dying woman. It was difficult to associate each and every robbery to her but her magical signature was quite distinct: a black river that resembled sludge. All the Aurors had to do was hide in a nearby alley by one of the stores and follow the culprit. It was by luck that the polyjuice's effect started to falter just as she was about to apparate away. Barkley was immediately arrested the moment she stepped a foot into Diagon. 

She wasn't remorseful. Not in the slightest. As a matter of fact, she seemed to be filled with glee. A few days later, she died in the holding cell of the Ministry, face painted with nothing but peace

"True," Harry mumbled under his breath as he remembered that specific case. "Who would've thought that an old woman would be behind a series of robberies…and for no particular reason except to fulfill a bucketlist."

"Well, can't say I blame her too much though. I imagine I'd get to all sorts of crazy things if I'm mere months or even weeks away from death."

Harry snorted. 

"Like what? Stealing a dragon from Gringotts?" He joked, making Ron laugh. It's been years so they really don't mind joking about the wild things that they did during the war. Besides, anyone who thinks that stealing a dragon from a heavily guarded facility isn't cool and bucketlist worthy is probably a fool who enjoys watching paint dry. 

"Anyways, has anyone ever done any research on magical signatures?" Ron asked after they have gone through what they have so far in regards to The Missing Wizards case. "They're awfully useful when it comes to cases like this. Imagine if we could just bottle up their…I don't know…essence or something and then let that find them. It would make things a hell of a lot easier."

"I imagine the Unspeakables will have some kind of device like that. Have you tried asking Hermione?"

"Of course! But you already know what she said. There's a reason why they're Unspeakables."

"Why not ask George about it? He's an expert in creating all sorts of contraptions and devices."

Ron's eyes brightened up and Harry could almost see the light bulb that lit up in his head.

"You're a genius, mate!" He exclaimed. "I really do believe that the Unspeakables already have a device of some sort that's attuned to magical signatures but fat chance they're gonna lend it to us just for this case. Maybe they would if the security of the entire wizarding world is at stake."

"There's only one problem though," Harry said thoughtfully, trying to focus on the task at hand and not at what's slowly creeping into his conscious. "Not a shred of the victims' magical signatures were found during the investigation. There's no signature pointing to the culprit either. The unsub has deliberately wiped their tracks and with utmost care as well."

His bestfriend physically deflated but then perked up again as a thought seemed to have cross his mind.

"That's true but I'm still gonna ask George about it. He likes to work on new stuff and maybe one of these days we'll get a hint as to where these missing wizards really are and we could use this magical signature device to find them!" Ron said enthusiastically, already pulling a spare piece of parchment and scribbling some notes on it. "I'll draft up some plans and show them to you so you can add more stuff that you think it'll probably need."

* * *

Two days later, Harry and Ron were just about to enter The Crystal once again when they caught sight of a flyer pasted on the pub's wall. It was a missing person's flyer of the loud man who frequented the pub: Hubert.

That day, they cancelled their plans to question Julia. Instead, the two Aurors went back to the Ministry. Harry instructed Thimble and Grunhild to look up any missing males in South Kensington. It took them roughly two hours to get back to the office with their report.

"Sir, there are nine missing Muggle cases in South Kensington alone, including Hubert Walters." Grunhild started, placing the case files on Harry's desk. The three of them were in Harry's office in the Investigation Department. Ron, on the other hand, went to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to work on the magical signature device with George. He would just have to be briefed on the case later. "All of them males and of various ages, jobs, and social status."

Apparently, this case is bigger than they initially thought. There are now a total of 13 missing men. Four of which are wizards, the rest are Muggles. While the wizards went missing within a week of each other, the Muggles disappeared at the most random of times, sometimes a mere day or two apart. Just like the wizards, however, they all disappeared without a trace. Further investigation done by the Aurors revealed that, out of the nine missing Muggles, only two of them have been in The Crystal. The rest have never even set a foot near the place. 

The Auror office was left befuddled. They had no leads, no evidences. The victims had nothing in common aside from their genders and that they all went missing in South Kensington. They couldn't really focus on The Crystal since only a portion of the victims have been in the establishment. Acknowledging the fact that they have reached a temporary dead end, the Auror office have assigned some of their workforce to patrol the area of South Kensington in hopes of preventing any new disappearances. This course of action worked for the most part. Although the Aurors were exhausted due to the strict patrol shifting that added to their already heavy workload, no one went missing in the days that followed. Even Muggles felt the presence of the authorities since Robards coordinated with the Muggle Police to set up patrols as well. However, if one would ask any of the Aurors on-duty, they want nothing more than to catch whoever the culprit is so that they can go back to their regular work schedules.

It was a week later when the tables have finally turned.

It was another slow and exhausting day for the Auror office. Harry was sat by his desk, reviewing and signing the paperworks of the newly solved cases. He's rushing quite a bit since he would have to be at Queensberry Place by noon for his scheduled patrol with Auror Dillywaddle. He would much rather have Ron as his partner but his bestfriend has been put on a different shift. Something about "not having two of the top Aurors being in the same place while others are in need of assistance" or something like that. 

Harry was just signing the last of his paperworks when he heard three knocks on his office door. He looked up to see his secretary's head peeking from the slightly opened door.

"Sir, Head Auror Robards needs you in Conference Room #5 as soon as possible." She said, voice still as professional as ever but it held a tone of urgency. Harry figured that Robards had spoken to her himself. He would never understand why the Head Auror refuses to just send interdepartmental memos instead of terrorizing the junior staff every chance he gets. "He says it's urgent and it's about The Missing Wizards case."

"Thank you, Janice." Harry said with a smile, already fixing the messy stack of papers on his desk. "I'll head there right away."

He felt an odd sense of déjà vu when he entered Conference Room #5. It was like he was transported back to one of their first briefings on The Missing Wizards case. However, instead of the room being filled with Aurors from their department, several unfamiliar faces now sat by the table. As per usual, a vacant seat was saved for him beside Ron while Robards was already up front and ready to discuss whatever it was that he needed to discuss.

"As you all know, we have been having difficulties with The Missing Wizards case due to lack of leads and evidence," The Head Auror immediately started after Harry took a seat. "However, just this morning, the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was alerted to a mishap in a store in the outskirts of London. I'll let Obliviator Charles fill you in on the details."

One of the unfamiliar faces, a middle-aged man with a shock of electric blue hair, stood up and addressed the others in the room. 

"We got a report at around 6AM of a panicked employee at a Muggle convenience store about how his table was doing odd things and that he might be hallucinating." The blue-haired man narrated. "According to the Muggle, the table upon which his radio was sitting on started to turn an strange shade of green and emit a truly repelling odour. We have sent Obliviators along with the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad on-site. They have confirmed that the said table is behaving in an unnatural way and that the stench was enough to send people running for miles in the opposite direction. 

It turns out that the table was originally a severed arm. The electricity and radiowaves of the Muggle appliance interfered with the spellwork that had it preserved and transfigured. The images that you are about to see are quite sensitive so I have to ask each and everyone of you to be prepared."

With a wave of his wand, Charles sent copies of his case file to everyone. Harry braced himself before opening the folder. In his lifetime, he has seen a fair number of not-so-good things, things that will make a normal person's stomach turn. However, despite all of that, Harry still felt a bit queasy at the photo in front of him. 

It was an entire arm, from shoulder to hand, rotting and greyish. Its palm was bent backwards at an angle that would be impossible for a living human to achieve. Its fingertips were turning black, the colour starting to spread althroughout the hand. It seems like the preservation charms didn't do their work after all judging by state of decay that the arm was currently in. Harry can handle images of greying flesh but what made him uneasy was the way that the arm seemed to have been separated from the rest of the body. The cutting spells that he knew made swift clean cuts similar to how those machines work in the deli shop. However, the arm in the picture looks like it was forcefully torn apart from its joint. The tendons were still jutting out from the end and the skin had an irregular pattern that resembled roughly ripped paper. That alone told Harry that whoever did this, they did it out of pure rage and hatred.

"Bloody hell…" Harry heard Ron mutter, sounding a bit queasy himself despite being an expert in the Dark Arts and thus having dealt with the sickest of things more than the regular Auror.

"Where's the arm now?" Harry inquired.

"We have it here with us. Head Auror Robards suspects that the arm belongs to one of the missing wizards." Charles said as one of his co-workers levitated a parcel wrapped in parchment paper to the middle of the table. "We placed it under a stasis charm to control the odour and decay."

"We would have to perform the necessary spells to determine who this arm belongs to. If it's a wizard's, it will probably still have atleast an ounce of its magical signature." Robards explained. "If it's a Muggle's, we have to send if over for DNA testing. Nonetheless, considering the interference in the spellwork, it would definitely still have traces of dark magic that will help us identify the culprit.

Auror Weasley, I've heard that you've been working on a project with the Department of Mysteries."

"Yes, sir," Ron said, trying not to sound sick as Charles unwrapped the paper containing the severed arm. "It's a magical signature detecting device. For now, it can only store a person's magical signature. My brother and I are still tweaking it so that it'll give off a signal once the owner of that signature uses magic nearby. Of course, it cannot be used if the witch or wizard masks their signature."

"Hmm…" Robards seemed to ponder for a bit as he stared at the object in the middle of the table. He then waved his wand to cast several spells. The first spell made the arm release a faint dark green smoke that smelled like rotting apples. This indicated a person's magical signature. Harry recognized the colour and consistency of the smoke as Michael Quinn's, the second wizard who went missing. His signature actually smelled like fresh Granny Smith apples but considering the situation, it made perfect sense for the smell to become rotten. The next spell, on the other hand, resulted into a dark purple sludgy substance to crawl out of the severed arm as if it's a living being. 

"Dark magic." Ron said simply, his face scrunched up in disgust as the substance started to spread on the table. Harry feared that it would try to touch everyone but it seemed to have hit an invisible barrier. Instead of continuously spreading, its edges crawled upwards. When it sensed that it couldn't reach any further, it started pounding on the invisible barrier. With another swish of his wand, Robards vanished the traces of dark magic.

"Auror Weasley," Robards spoke still staring at the object on the table. "Do you think the device you're working on can handle Dark Magic?"

"Sir?"

"As you've all been taught, Dark Magic leaves traces that cannot be washed away by any normal spell," The Head Auror started to explain. "Which is why it would be extremely helpful if we can come up with something that can tell us if a certain magic like this belongs to a specific person." 

Robards then turned to Harry.

"Auror Potter, can you tell whether or not this arm belongs to one of our missing wizards?"

Harry nodded. 

"Yes, sir. We have gathered items that belonged to the victims in hopes of familiarizing ourselves with their signatures. If I am not mistaken, that arm belongs to trainee Hit Wizard Michael Quinn," He confirmed. "However, a severed arm does not indicate a victim's death. For all we know, he's still being held captive. But, we also cannot rule out the high possibility of the rest of his body suffering the same fate as this particular limb did."

Harry then gestured to the part of the arm that was originally connected to its socket before, once again, addressing everyone in the room. 

"Judging by the way the skin and flesh looks, it looks like it's been forcefully ripped away from its joint," He explained. "Only a handful of spells are known to do that and all of which are considered to be quite dark, intended to make the victim suffer. Either a spell did this or it was done through brute force. Nevertheless, it tells us that whoever did this – whoever is doing this – they're doing it either from insanity or from sheer rage and hatred."

If Harry was going to be completely honest with himself, he doesn't know what's scarier: an insane Dark wizard hell bent on using the truly wicked spells in their arsenal or a strong individual, not necessarily dark nor insane but strong enough to literally rip a man to shreds? He does know that whoever is behind all of this is extremely dangerous and that they should act as soon as possible to solve this case.

"Very well," Robards said, directing everyone's attention to him. "Obliviator Charles, I would like to assign a couple of my Aurors to your department in preparation for the likely scenario that we find other…parts. For now, we are hoping that the culprit made more than one mistake. I do believe that if – and this is only an 'if' – they did the same to the rest of Mr. Quinn's body, not all of them will be placed near Muggle objects that can interfere its spellwork.

As for the rest of you, patrolling shifts will continue to as to minimize the chances of anyone being taken while we try our best to locate the unsub. However, I must impose to each and everyone of you the dangers that this case proposes. Be on the lookout for anything, advise your fellow Aurors to be alert at all times and to protect each other's backs. 

Auror Weasley, we need the device prototypes as soon as possible. They could be our only key to finding where the rest of Mr. Quinn's body has gone.

Auror Potter, I'll be sending any and all evidence to your division, including this arm, as I'm sure you would want to examine it further. I also want you to work with Auror Weasley on the development of the magical signature device. I trust that it will be ready in the soonest possible time."

After that, they were all dismissed. The Aurors and other personnel from the DMAC filed out of the conference room. Harry and Ron followed suit. However, instead of going back to their offices, the two of them headed to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

* * *

"How's it going, Angie?" Harry greeted once they caught sight of Angelina on the till, ringing up a kid's purchase. 

"Harry! Ron! Good to see you!" Angelina greeted them back with a bright smile. "George is at the back working on the You-Know-What."

"Thanks, Anj!" Ron said, nicking a caramel from the counter and popping it into his mouth. 

The two Aurors made their way to the backroom that George has dubbed as "The Lab". It's where he usually works on new products for the shop. It's door was protected by a special ward that only lets certain people see it to keep curious customers from snooping around and ruining everything.

Harry knocked and opened the door to see George leaning over his working table, holding tools that Harry is unfamiliar with while wearing a pair of strange looking goggles.

"Hey, Georgie." Ron greeted, grabbing two of the spare goggles from the shelf and handing one to Harry, saying that it would protect his eyes from any flying parts or erratic magic. "How's it going?"

Harry put on the goggles and twisted the knob that activated the zooming function of the lens. 

"Whoa…" He breathed out as the lens zoomed into the walls. Harry could see every single minute detail of the wooden walls: the crevices that ran down its surface, the texture of the paint, and the small things on the wood that resembled tiny hairs.

"Wicked, am I right?" He heard George say. Harry went over to look at what the elder Weasley brother is working at. When Ron first mentioned that he and George were starting this little project for the Department of Mysteries, Harry assumed that the "device" would look like an actual device like a radio, a phone, or even a compass. Instead, he was presented with what looked like an amulet. A hollow looking crystal sphere rested in the middle of a silver plate with its edges inscribed with runes. The amulet itself hung from a black waxed cotton cord.

Harry was immediately reminded of the crystal balls that Professor Trelawney made them stare into for hours to attempt to read their futures. In the end, he and Ron would just say some made-up bullshit like seeing winged serpents falling from the sky and the water in the Black Lake turning a bright bubblegum pink and being filled with suds.

George stepped back from the working table so that the three of them can look at it more comfortably.

"Well, I have to say that this is the most intensive and intricate thing that I've ever worked on," The elder Weasley commented. "I'm surprised that the prototype is doing well despite the short amount of time that we have."

"You have Hermione to thank for that," Ron said with a chuckle as he leaned over the work table to further inspect the amulet. "She's the one who proposed the entire thing to the Head of the Department of Mysteries and she also convinced them to let us borrow their research notes on magical signatures."

"Your wife is an absolute genius, that's what she is. Thanks to her I've gotten this thing to work properly." George murmured. He then waved his wand and pointed it to the object on the table. A sparkling emerald green haze made its way from his wand to the crystal sphere, filling up the hollow space. Immediately, the amulet started to glow the faintest of baby blue. "As you can see, gentlemen, I've successfully transferred some of ny magical signature into the amulet. The runes on the side act like permanent spellworks to keep it there."

"Why's it glowing, though?" Harry asked, turning the zooming knob to look closer at the now emerald green crystal sphere and at the blue light coming from it.

"It acts like a signal," George replied. "If the person that owns that signature is near, the amulet will glow the faintest of blues. I wanted it to be orange but the spellwork for that is stuck firmly on blue."

He then summoned an empty glass from across the room with a swish of his wand. This action darkened the amulet's glow until it became closer to a navy blue shade.

"When the person uses magic, the glow becomes darker."

"The thing is," Ron was the one to speak this time. "George and I were already talking about Dark Magic even before the arm – long story, Georgie – showed up. And, while this device is already working for regular magical signatures, we are yet to test its compatibility with Dark Magic. As you saw earlier, that shit can be unstable and have a life of its own.

We can't test it here, in the middle of the shop even though I know a handful of Dark – but completely safe – spells. So, we don't know if it'll be able to handle that sort of magic without the sphere breaking and harming the wearer. Plus, the protective enchantments on this place will not hold too long."

"What if we test it in the Ministry?" Harry suggested. "I know that they have a facility where they examine magical objects with unstable magic, be it Dark or otherwise. If not, we can always use one of the vacant Auror training rooms. Those have some of the strongest protective spells that I've ever seen in my life."

"True," Ron agreed, watching George work on the amulet once again. "I'll get the permits ready. I'm quite positive that Robards can prioritize them seeing as he's already rushing this entire project."

"I have one question though," Harry said as the three of them were taking off their goggles. They planned on going to the Leaky Cauldron to eat lunch before going back to the Ministry. "How far does the person have to be for the amulet to detect them?"

"I tested it the other day and it was only effective within a 5-metre radius." George answered as he placed an enchanted glass box over the amulet. The box was designed to be kept in place unless voluntarily taken away so any accidental nudges won't make it budge. "I tried extending the spellwork but the crystal sphere just shatters when I do. It's already one of the sturdier materials that I have unless we get an actual ball made from diamonds."

* * *

Harry, Ron, George, and Angelina were now all in the Leaky Cauldron, having lunch together. It was just before noon so it wasn't as crowded as it usually was. Nevertheless, the group sat in a fairly isolated corner and cast a Muffliato charm when their orders were delivered. One would never know if there are any eavesdroppers hanging about, looking to sell any smidgen of information to the Prophet. 

"Did Ron ever tell you how he came up with the idea for the amulet?" George asked, scooping up half of the peas in his plate and putting them on Angelina's plate making the latter roll her eyes. Harry shook his head, mouth too full with beef and mashed potatoes to answer properly.

"Funny story, actually--" Ron said around a mouthful of sausages. He swallowed and downed his food with some pumpkin juice. "I got the idea from Malfoy's gift."

Harry immediately perked up.

"Hermione herself agreed that the enchantments in the necklaces that Pansy and Luna received are a work of pure genius," Ron continued. "And we thought that, hey, instead of making a super obvious machine thingy, why don't we just make it look like an amulet? It's subtle and people will just think it's a piece of jewelry."

Harry will forever remember the day on which Hermione Granger outright admitted that Draco Malfoy is a genius. Not to mention have Ronald Weasley agree with it and even take inspiration from something that Draco made.

"We actually went over to Pansy and Luna's the other day to take a closer look at the necklaces," George added. "They have runes written on the back to keep the enchantments in."

It took Harry a few moments to get over the initial shock. When he did, he cleared his throat and nodded.

"That's brilliant!" He exclaimed feeling quite flustered all of a sudden. "Very very cool indeed!"

"I told you..." Harry heard Ron mutter to George. He looked at them and noticed that a peculiar expression was painted onto their faces. It was like they knew something he didn't. 

"Huh? Told him what?" Harry asked, looking between Ron and George in confusion. The two exchanged amused looks as he waited for anyone to answer.

"Ron said," Angelina spoke as she finally took pity on Harry, letting him in on whatever secret that the Weasley brothers have. "That you have developed an itty-bitty crush on Malfoy. That's why you get all weird and flustered whenever he's mentioned."

Harry spluttered, looking at his bestfriend in disbelief.

"I do not!" He protested. "It's just… I'm the one assigned to his case and any clue that would help me find him will really help the investigation."

"Yeah, mate. Act like I haven't known you for two decades and like I wasn't there at Luna and Pansy's." Ron teased, finishing the last bites of his food and chugging down his beer pint to wash it all down. "Don't let Hermione know that you're still on Malfoy's case though, Harry. Unless you want her to…what's that word…psychomanalize, you."

"It's psychoanalyze but thanks for the warning."

"Wouldn't it be better if you get Hermione's help with that?" Angelina asked. "Things will progress at a faster rate."

Harry shrugged. It's true that he would probably have already made more progress with Hermione's help but he couldn't really handle the concerned looks that he's getting from her everytime he talks about Draco. He figured that Pansy could also be a reliable source of information but the pureblood is still standing firm with her decision to not meddle with things.

Instead of further protesting, Harry chose to steer the subject of the conversation into more comfortable areas like how George and Angelina's kids are doing, if Ron and Hermione ever plan on having kids anytime soon, when they're going to visit Bill and Fleur, and other life updates. The four of them ate and chat until it was past noon. The couple bid the Aurors goodbye with the latter pair promising that they'll get back to George as soon as the necessary permits are in order.

* * *

In the days that passed, no additional disappearances were reported. This was mostly due to the rotational patrol shifts that the Auror office has implemented. However, additional severed body parts were found, adding truth to the speculation that perhaps none of their victims are alive or in one piece. Most of these parts were found in Muggle areas which gave the DMAC quite a headache. 

The second transfigured limb was found as a broom in an electronics shop right in the middle of the busiest part in London. The Obliviators had to wipe the memories of no less than twenty Muggles who were in the store that day. Half of them already made a run for it before the Aurors have even arrived at the scene. They had to be quickly chased lest they tattle on what they saw to anybody who would listen. Muggles aren't inclined to believe such bizarre stories but it was still better to be safe than sorry. 

This limb was once Pollux Grimbleton's left leg. It was in a similar state as Quinn's arm. As expected, the abundance of electricity and radiowaves disrupted the magic and so it started to revert back to its original state. 

A few days after this discovery, another body part was found. This time it was at a Muggle café. William Proudfoot's right leg was transfigured into a microphone stand. The café's manager said that she got surprised when suddenly all of her guests started screaming in the middle of Poetry Night. One moment, the person on stage was holding onto the microphone stand and the next, the poor lad was confused as the mic detached from its place and his audience fell eerily silent. They looked down to see a man's severed leg on the ground where the mic stand should've been. Upon investigation, it seems like the spellwork on this one was abruptly disturbed seeing as it didn't have the time to rot and it just immediately went back to being flesh. The Forensics division of the Investigation Department was called in immediately. They concluded that the victims were still alive while their limbs were being ripped off from their sockets. This is because the flesh was still soft and warm with blood freely gushing out from the severed end. 

The latest body part to appear was quite strange and the Auror office didn't even want to associate it with the others. They think that it's the work of a different criminal, a different wizard. It was only when Harry himself went to the scene did he confirm that it has a huge possibility of being related to the case. 

The place was right in the middle of the countryside, amongst the vast fields of wheat and corn in North Yorkshire. On it stood a small farm with an adequately sized barn alongside a quaint house. The Muggles who owned the place were a family that descended from generations and generations of farmers. Every single day, the mother would milk the cows while the father tended to the fields. The children would feed the chicken and the grandparents could be found either sitting on the front porch or helping with their crops. Their life was fairly quiet and they get by quite well with what they earn from the farm. All in all, it was a place where a severed human body part is least expected to be found. 

Apparently, anything is possible these days because right here in this small peaceful farm is where they found the rotting head of Hubert Walters, the loud patron from The Crystal who went missing several days after Harry and Ron's visit.

The entire discovery was peculiar because it's the first head that they found. The others were just limbs. It wasn't even transfigured into a different object in the first place. It was just stuck onto a spear and made to be a part of a scarecrow, replacing its original head that was made out of stuffed canvas cloth. It seemed like it was left there for quite some time judging by the maggots that were wriggling their way out of his eyeballs. It was only discovered because an eyeball fell on top of the daughter's head while she and her brother were playing around it.

Harry's speculations were confirmed the moment that he cast the spell that Robards used on the arm to detect residual Dark Magic. Dark purple sludge started to ooze out from Hubert's cut off neck, indicating that a dark spell was used to cut it off. It seems like it was the spell used to rip off the other victims' limbs as well because the head also sported tear patterns.

"We need to go back to The Crystal", Harry told Ron once they were in the private confines of the former's office. "Remember what Joseph said? About how Hubert never attempted to do anything rash except for that one time that he did? Just a few days after that incident, he disappeared."

Ron's eyes widened in realization.

"So, you mean to say that our killer could have been in the pub during that day?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "It makes sense. Hubert has always been loud and rude but nothing has ever happened to him, not until he decided to manhandle one of the staff."

"Do you think it could be one of them?" Ron asked, his brain already filtering through the faces of workers and patrons that he saw during their first visit. He felt a bit frustrated at not being able to recall anyone who acted or reacted strange. He got too distracted by the scene that Hubert caused after all.

"I think so. If it's not one of the staff, it's definitely one of the guests. How's the thing going?"

"Oh, the Masidec? It's doing great actually! George and I reinforced the crystal sphere to be able to hold dark magic. It's still quite unstable and it can break easily if it falls on the ground but it works."

"The Masidec?"

"Magical Signature Detector," Ron explained. "In all honesty, we could've come up with a much cooler name but after working on that thing for hours, we didn't really have much energy left to think of complicated names."

"Not to mention all those patrols…"

"Exactly."

As if on cue, Ron let out a huge yawn. He has been on night patrols for the past week. That along with making sure the Masidec works is bound to take a toll on him.

"You still up to go to The Crystal?" Harry asked, knowing full well that Ron isn't one to disregard work especially when it comes to a crucial case like this. "I was thinking about testing the Masidec, see if we can find anything."

"Of course," The redhead said, already getting up from his seat. "Let me just get some Pepper-Up before I fall asleep on my feet. The thingamajig is with George right now. He's still working on the additional enchantments but he did say that it's safe to use for the most part."

"For the most part…?"

"Yeah. Say it explodes, right? Instead of being blown into smithereens and dying, we would just find ourselves in St. Mungos."

Harry rolled his eyes as he and Ron made their way out of the office.

* * *

Once again, Harry and Ron are at The Crystal, polyjuiced as the same Muggles from before. This time they sat approximately in the middle of the room with Harry wearing the Masidec – containing the sludgy purple substance of the unsub's dark magic. Its pendant was resting on his chest and glowed a light baby blue. The amulet started to glow the moment they stepped into the pub. Luckily, it was faint enough that people had to be close to Harry to see it. The two Aurors had to act as calmly as possible to not get any unwanted attention, especially from their unsub who seemed to be in the very same room as they are.

"Hey! Glad to see you again, mates!" They heard Joseph's voice greet them from behind the bar. Harry and Ron waved at him as they sat down. The bartender was currently tending to a line of customers. It was nearing closing time for The Crystal but since it was Friday evening, the pub still had quite a lot of people enjoying their food and drinks after a week's worth of hardwork.

After ordering their food from Julia, Harry spoke to Ron in a low and quiet enough voice that no one around them would be able to clearly hear their conversation.

"Do you reckon we should ask for backup?" He asked. "This might get nasty especially since we're not a hundred percent sure if Joseph and Julia are innocent."

"Yeah, I'll head outside for a moment and send a patronus." Ron replied, already standing up from his seat. He brandished a mobile phone in his hand to make it look like he was just about to make a call.

Harry took Ron's absence as an opportunity to look around at the patrons in the pub. He picked up the pint of beer that was set in front of him and drank from it, his eyes peering from the rim of the glass as he carefully scanned the place.

Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Harry could see people in groups and pairs, probably talking about how their work week has been. He saw a guy calling out to his friend who just entered the pub to let him know where they're sitting. He could also see people who were by themselves. Some were on the phone inviting friends over and saying how they have already reserved seats for them. There's also a woman who seems to be nursing emotional pain as she cried and drowned her sorrows with multiple pints of beer and vodka.

He was just about to relax, thinking that the Masidec might be malfunctioning and that the culprit isn't really here when something – rather, someone – caught his eye. Harry didn't stare or looked at the person longer than necessary. Instead, he continued to look around, trying his best not to let this person know that he has noticed her.

There, in the far corner of the pub, sat a woman. She was by herself and was dressed smartly. She looked like she just got of the office due to the business attire that she was sporting: a blazer and a pencil skirt. Nothing was out of the ordinary with her except for one thing. From his vantage point, Harry could see that she was nervously tapping her feet against the wooden floor. She was also looking around, face calm and stoic but eyes frantic as if she was waiting for something to happen or for someone to arrive. 

Before Harry could think further about it, Julia arrived with their order of a basket of fish and chips and two burgers.

"Julia, right?" He suddenly spoke up just as the waitress was about to walk away. Julia eyed him warily but nodded. The light of the pendant remained a faint baby blue which meant the culprit was still in the same position that they were in when the two Aurors first entered. This also meant that the culprit wasn't Julia. George added a rune to the Masidec that will allow it to glow brighter if the person to which the magic belongs to comes nearer. With the presence of the strange woman in the pub, Harry didn't think that the amulet is malfunctioning now but they still had to make sure so he quietly asked Julia about her. "Does that woman come here often? Don't look at her-- She looks quite disturbed, doesn't she?"

"Oh-- I think I know who you're talking about," Julia replied. "I've seen her here a few times. She comes at around 5pm and leaves just before closing. She usually looks prim and polished… must be having a bad day. I should really get back to work."

"Sure! Thanks! Sorry for disturbing you." Harry said with an embarassed smile. Julia chuckled and gave him a pat on the shoulder before walking away to serve other guests.

Ron chose that moment to come back, immediately grabbing a chip from the basket as he took a seat.

"Sorry I took so long, mate," He apologized, looking sheepish and a bit out of breath. "The streets are packed with Muggles. I had to find a relatively quiet place to send the patronus."

"S'okay," Harry replied, drinking his beer once again, not really up to eating anything right now. "I think I know who our killer is…"

"It's that woman behind me, isn't it?" Ron asked in a low voice, his head gesturing towards the woman's direction. Harry nodded. "She looks nervous as all hell and her wand is peeking out from her sleeve. I have a feeling she's going to start firing curses any time."

"I think I need to get better glasses…" Harry muttered, kind of amazed at how Ron managed to see that specific detail.

"I disillusioned myself and watched everyone from the window." Ron shrugged, popping another chip into his mouth. "The thing is, we can't arrest her until there's probable cause."

"I guess we should just wait?"

"Yeah."

And so they waited. 

Forty five minutes have passed, Harry and Ron made small talk while discreetly glancing every so often at the woman at the far corner of the pub. She stayed there, the constant flow of beer serving as her only entertainment. Quite a number of pints decorated the top of her table and she must already be intoxicated because she stopped tapping her feet on the floor. Instead, she just peered at everyone. Waiting. Just waiting. The people are starting to leave one-by-one until there's only about a total of eight guests including the woman, the two Aurors, and five other people who they assume to be Muggles. 

Harry was just about to get up and have another dose of the polyjuice potion when it happened. 

The remaining group of Muggles were getting a bit rowdy. Harry only heard the squeal of one of the girls in the group before he saw the woman they were watching abruptly stand and brandish her wand at the man sitting beside the girl.

The two Aurors immediately got to their feet but the woman was quicker. She has already managed to cast an Entrail-Expelling Curse at the man, causing a mixture of blood and intestines to spill out from his abdomen to the floor. The group erupted into screams as the Muggles scrambled to help their friend and back away from the woman at the same time. 

Harry noticed the amulet on his chest glow a strong navy blue. 

"It's her!" Ron yelled, firing a Stupefy at the deranged woman who was now throwing a wide array of hexes at anyone near her. 

Joseph and Julia both had shocked looks on their faces but they were sensible enough to take out their own wands and protect their patrons.

"You're wizards?!" Joseph yelled at the two Aurors. 

"Yeah! Sorry, mate!" Ron replied, quickly dodging a stunner. It went straight to the wall of the bar where shelves upon shelves of alcohol were stocked. The bottles of liquor exploded and sprayed their contents everywhere. "We'll handle this, protect the Muggles! Do you have anti-apparition wards on? We can't let her get away!"

"Y-Yeah, we do!" Julia was the one who answered this time, she rushed over to where the bleeding man was to help him.

Harry cast a shield that separated the deranged woman from the group of Muggles.

"NO!" The woman screeched so loud that the glasses on the table rattled. "HE DESERVES TO DIE! LET HIM DIE! FILTH OF THE EARTH!"

It seems like the woman has lost her finesse as she began to fire more curses in quick succession, not caring at all about her aim. Harry and Ron were too busy casting shield charms to retaliate. Luckily, the Muggles were safely behind the bar at this point along with Julia and the host. Unfortunately, it was at this point that the male cook emerged from the kitchen, confused at what's happening. Seeing as none of them expected him to come out, Harry, Ron, and Joseph failed to cast a shield to protect him. The woman took this opportunity to fire an dark purple curse in his direction. Before anyone knew it, the cook's arm was ripped off out of its socket, blood sprouting everywhere, mixing with the liquor that was already on the floor. The man let out a painful scream, making their ears ring as he writhed on the ground in pain.

"HOLY FUCK!" Joseph exclaimed, rushing over to where his cook was.

"Cast a Statis charm and take him to St. Mungos! Here!" Harry yelled, putting up another shield charm. He then quickly gave Joseph the small bottle cap in his pocket and turned it into a portkey. "It'll activate in five seconds!"

Five seconds later, both Joseph and the cook were whirled out of the establishment and into St. Mungos where the latter would hopefully be attended to. 

"Julia! How's the Muggle doing?" Ron asked while trying to sneak in counter-curses at the woman.

"He's fine!" was Julia's frantic response, her American accent being more pronounced under distress. "I've managed to reverse the curse. He's passed out but he'll be fine!"

"Keep the Muggles where they are! Don't let any of them leave for now!" Harry told her, ducking from another stunner. He knows full well that the Obliviators need to handle these Muggles. He didn't plan on having an all out battle in the middle of the pub, amongst these Muggles but the culprit seemed to have lost what little sanity she has left and have foregone any subtlety that was evident from her past actions.

The woman continued to fire curses at them but her actions are starting to falter. They weren't as smooth and as quick as they initially were. She's starting to get worn out. Harry and Ron could clearly see this. Offensive spells, especially if they're dark and have the intent of maiming or killing someone, are much more taxing to cast than defensive ones. 

The two Aurors waited for her to falter again before.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Petrificus Totalus! Incarcerous!"

And just like that, the insane woman fell frozen on the ground tied up with thick ropes.

* * *

Geneva Gladstone, 28, is a Muggle-born witch and a former Ministry employee. She previously worked as a receptionist in the office of the Minister of Magic and Support Staff before she was dismissed due to erratic behaviour.

However, this erratic behavior stemmed from the harassment that she had to tolerate as a receptionist. Geneva has repeatedly reported those incidents but nothing came out of it until she was sacked. From then on, her frustration and hatred for men increased at a drastic pace. It didn't help that wherever she went, she would either get sexually harassed or see someone else suffer in that situation. 

One day, she snapped but not in the way that one would expect her to. She snapped and realized that she needed to give these men what they deserve. And so she planned her next actions. She was careful and deliberate from the first wizard to the last Muggle. 

However, she never did work well under pressure. The moment that she sensed Aurors patrolling the area, she stopped herself from getting another victim, scared that she'll get caught. However, the frustration of not being able to carry out her self-sworn duty while being forced to deal with men that she hated got to her. She became paranoid and fidgety. She felt like eyes were watching her everywhere she goes. In the first weeks of the patrol, Geneva stayed in her house. She only went outside for work. This routine worsened her paranoia. And so, she decided to bring some normality back in her life by visiting The Crystal.

However, her mind was so fragile and she was insane enough as it is so she snapped at the first sign of a man being disrespectful towards a woman.

The man that Geneva hit with the Entrail-Expelling Curse is the boyfriend of the girl who squealed. They were genuinely just joking around but Geneva saw it differently and thought it necessary to attack.

Geneva Gladstone was sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban with no chance of parole. All of the victims' bodies were retrieved and given a proper burial, any traces of Dark Magic were already expelled from them.

Meanwhile, the Muggles in the pub, including the staff, had their memories modified. Their minds were filled with false memories of just deciding to go back home and sleep. The injured cook was patched up and sent home with modified memories as well. The Aurors helped with cleaning the place while Harry and Ron invited Joseph and Julia to the Ministry to get their testimonies as well as explain to them what exactly happened. In the end, they the two pub owners accepted their explanation as well as the compensation for the damage done to their place. They even invited the two Aurors back to The Crystal just to chat. Joseph and Julia often stayed away from the wizarding part of England but they think that it's still nice to have some wizard friends.

* * *

A few days after the Missing Wizards case was closed, Harry could be found in a random Muggle pub in the middle of London. He just got off work and wanted to have a moment for himself. He was too exhausted from a day of signing paperworks to hang out with his friends. Besides, Ron was given a special assignment of refining the Masidec for official Ministry use. Not to mention that he's also spending every minute of his free time with Hermione which they both truly deserved after the excitement and business that these past months have brought.

Harry was just thinking about filing for an extended leave when his ears perked up at the conversation between the two people behind him.

"It was a miracle! Like magic!" A male's voice exclaimed. Harry turned around to see two elderly men talking to each other. Actually they didn't look that old. He estimated that they were in their fifties. The two of them wore business suits giving Harry the impression that, just like him, they just got off work too. However, while Harry was only on his first pint of the night, these men looked like they've already had a lot to drink judging by the empty glasses on their table. "Can you believe it? After years and years of undergoing chemotherapy, all it took was a trip to France to cure her!"

"It's probably bloody expensive." The other man muttered, cheeks red and eyes firmly focused on the beer foam in his glass.

"That's the thing!" The first one said. "They didn't have to pay as much as they did back in Italy! I'm telling you, Philip, that hospital is a work of art. Six weeks in and my cousin's cancer? Gone! Absolutely gone!"

"Yer pullin' me leg, Kevin." Philip said in an exasperated tone.

Harry's brows furrowed as he looked down at his table. If what "Kevin" is saying is true, then that could be the work of wizards illegally meddling into Muggle medicine. The wizarding world has long discovered the cure for cancer. It was a potion that the patient had to take regularly everyday for around two to three months, depending on their initial health status. This is why wizards and witches live on for atleast a hundred years. They don't let physical and biological ailments take their lives. They will only either die from old age, murder, or a magical disease. Nowadays, cancer is in the same league as a really intense flu, to the wizarding world at least. It was awful to have it, yes. But it's not the end of the world.

"I'm telling you, Philip!" Kevin insisted. "You've seen how frail Martina was! She was basically stuck in her wheelchair for the better part of the last five years. You saw her pictures from last week all up and at it! It was like she never even got sick in the first place."

"What's this place called then? Maybe some dodgy place that use voodoo magic or some shit."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong! It's actually a well-known, well-respected hospital," Kevin then clears his threat before proceeding to say the hospital's name in an passable French accent. "Hôpital Edouard Herriot!"

"I thought The Leon Berard Cancer Center was the leading cancer institute in France?"

"Too expensive. Way too expensive. Get this…" Kevin started to lower his voice. Harry discreetly waved his wand to slightly amplify the man's voice for him. "They didn't admit Martina for cancer treatment specifically. They said that it was just for research. Something about trying experimental medicine. Miranda figured she didn't have much too lose so she agreed. And here we are close to two months later!"

"Where's the medicine from?"

"I don't know. They wouldn't tell us. Confidentiality clauses and all that bull. But if you ask me, I don't really care. We're just glad to have cousin Martina back at her feet."

Harry snorted. Of course they wouldn't tell Muggles about where the "medicine" came from. Not only was it a very common potion to brew – only slightly more complicated than the polyjuice – but its ingredients aren't what one would consider rare. Get that information out into the Muggle world and corporations are sure to capitalize on it.

However, Harry's still torn about reporting this to the Ministry. On one hand, it's completely illegal and, on the other, whoever the people behind this are they sound like they just really want to help people.

"Anyways, she's planning on permanently moving to France," Kevin continued. "Something about how it'll help her fully recover. I asked her if she plans to buy a house in Paris but no, the old spritely hag wants to live in a countryhouse in Lyon. Makes sense, if you ask me. She can just pop in at the hospital anytime she wants if she's feeling sick again…or if the medicine has any side effects."

Harry stopped listening to them midway. He was stuck at a particular word that Kevin said. Lyon. Lyon, France. It was awfully familiar

Then the memory struck him in the voice of Pansy Parkinson.

" _You can also start your apprenticeship at that hospital in Lyon your mother always talked about._ "

She said that to Draco before he disappeared.

Another memory hit him.

Maps. The map of France where cities were encircled including Lyon.

Harry already went to France a few years back but his search proved to be unsuccessful. However, back then he had no trails to follow, no specific places to name, no people to ask.

Harry thought long and hard as he sat there, his beer turning warm with every minute that passes. He's wondering if he should report this to the Ministry so that he can official permission to investigate or if he should just go there by himself and pray to whatever deity that what he heard tonight will lead him to the person that he's been looking for all these years.

He knew the answer the moment it came across his mind.

The next day, Harry filed a one-week leave of absence from work. Once it was approved, he immediately went to France bringing nothing but a bag that contained essentials, the pouch that Luna gave him, and the version of the Masidec that he wore a few days back.

He's not certain whether he'll succeed but he's hoping for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 💖  
> I'm sorry that this took longer than planned but I didn't want to cut in the middle again. So, please have a 13k word chapter as a peace offering. 😅
> 
> We only have TWO chapters left and we're done! 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated. Let me know what you think~
> 
> CC: [ ysaintlorraine ](https://curiouscat.qa/ysaintlorraine)  
> Twitter: [ @ysaintlorraine ](https://twitter.com/ysaintlorraine)


	5. Found

Harry arrived at the International Portkey Terminal in France with his backpack swung on one shoulder. After getting his luggage and wand checked, he made his way out of the terminal and into the busy streets of Wizarding Paris. He knew little of the French language outside bonjour, bonsoir, au revoir, and all the other basic expressions so he doesn't really know how he'll communicate his way through France. Harry just hopes that the people understand English well-enough to give him the information that he needs.

He didn't really have the time for leisure nor was he here for that purpose. That's why he immediately made his way to the Hôpital Edouard Herriot. It took him a Floo journey from Paris to Lyon and a bus from the public Floo in Lyon to the hospital itself. It was a short trip but it could've been shorter had he realized the nature of the establishment.

Hôpital Edouard Herriot is a hospital compound right smack in the middle of the city. One would automatically assume that it's a facility by and for Muggles. However, upon crossing the gate, Harry felt a tingle run throughout his body that he could only explain as magic. He wasn't particularly sensitive to any kind of magic but he could feel wards and detection spells to a certain extent. What he felt just now? It was definitely some kind of a detection spell. However, looking back at the conversation that he heard between those two Muggles in England, Harry couldn't automatically assume that this is a wizarding establishment. It could be a mix of both. For now, he was just going to go inside and ask around as if he's a Muggle despite the obvious magical things that's happening here.

Harry entered what he assumed as the main building of the hospital. The lobby was sufficiently busy – as busy as you would expect a normal hospital to be. People are either walking around or sitting by the waiting area, some with white coats on, some in scrubs and some are just wearing Muggle clothes. There's quite a number of people but it was, by no means, crowded. So, Harry went on over to the front desk where a cheerful woman greeted him in French.

"Je ne parle pas français..?" Harry replied in an awkward accent, already using up most of his French vocabulary.

"Oh, that's fine!" The woman said with a welcoming smile as she switched to an accented English with ease. "Hi, what can I do for you today?"

"I was just going to ask about your cancer treatment program?" Harry replied, unsure of how he was going to phrase it but decided that being straightforward is the better route. "My…aunt got diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago and we've been trying our best to send her to radiation sessions but...it's too expensive and we heard that your hospital has a cancer treatment program that we can apply for."

"I'm sorry to hear about your aunt's condition," The receptionist – Celeste, according to the name tag attached on her uniform – said with a sympathetic expression before getting a small stack of papers. "But, you've come to the right place. These are the information pamphlets to know more about our program as well as the forms that you need to fill out for it, along with the list of documents that you need to submit to qualify. It's mostly experimental and for research so we do not guarantee full recovery but so far we have a 95% success rate with our patients."

"Right…uh…I was actually wondering if I could talk to whoever's in-charge of the program?"

"Oh, do you have an appointment with Dr. Laurent?"

"Uh…no, sorry."

"I'm sorry but Dr. Laurent doesn't accept meetings without prior notice. I can set up an appointment for you through his assistant if you'd like." Celeste offered with a kind smile. 

"Sure, no problem! When will that be?" 

The receptionist took a few moments to look through her computer, her eyebrows furrowed as she leaned in to read what's on the screen. She then clucked her tongue as she leaned back and addressed Harry.

"The earliest that I can set up for you is on the 29th."

"The 29th?!" Harry exclaimed incredulously. "But that's three weeks away!"

"I'm so sorry but he's quite busy these days and he's going on a medical conference next week. He wouldn't be back until the week after that."

"I need to talk to him as soon as possible. It would only be for a short while…five minutes!" 

"Mr…"

"Uh…Evans. James Evans."

"Right. Mr. Evans," Celeste began, her voice adopting an exasperated tone. It was clear that she was slowly but surely losing her patience. Surely it was way too early to deal with stubborn people like Harry…or James, for that matter. "You must understand that we have a lot of patients in this hospital and our staff are as busy as can be. As head of the Cancer Research and Treatment Program, Dr. Laurent is one of the busiest of them all. I really do apologize if I cannot set up an earlier appointment for you."

Harry let out a sigh of frustration as he wipes his face with both hands. He normally had a better temper than this but travelling internationally via Portkey made him a bit cranky, to say the least.

"Okay um," Harry started to say, trying to come up with anything that will allow him to speak to this Dr. Laurent. He was in France for only a week and he'll be damned if he wastes a single hour of that week waiting around for nothing. He then remembered a certain something that he stuffed in his bag at the last minute. "I…I guess I'll just come back some other time. I just have to fill these forms out right?"

Celeste nodded, taking her pen and using it to point out several important details.

"Name should be filled out starting with the patient's surname. If the patient is able to, make sure they sign three times at the bottom right of the page and don't forget to sign the waiver. Make sure to read through EACH and EVERY section. The Oncology Department is very strict when it comes to filling out forms and making sure that they get all the necessary information." The woman pulled out a sticky note from somewhere on her desk and wrote down an address. "You don't need to go here just to submit those. You can mail it directly to us and we'll keep you updated on whether or not your aunt has been accepted in the program."

Harry nodded absentmindedly as he watched Celeste flip through the papers, double checking it. 

"Okay," She finally said. "You're all set!"

* * *

After talking to Celeste, Harry sat on one of the numerous waiting chairs in the lobby and took the time to look through the papers that he was given. The first few sheets were the standard "Patient Information Sheet", followed by information about the program, a list of requirements, and a waiver that has to be signed by the patient and the patient's family. Harry was just about to switch over to the pamphlet when a small purple print on the waiver page caught his eye. 

"For people of magic and magical creatures, please proceed to Building B where you will be assisted accordingly."

"Huh…" Harry muttered under his breath. He supposes that only witches and wizards can see that fine print. That must be what the wards were for, detecting if someone is or isn't magical. It was a clever thing really. 

Now that it was confirmed that there is indeed magic at play in this hospital, Harry came to an interesting assumption. It seems like wizards and muggles are working together in this establishment in order to treat muggles from ailments that are usually deadly to them. He's still not sure whether or not the operations of this facility is legal but it seems like it is. It's quite difficult to hide illegal facilities in the middle of the city. 

Harry is a bit bothered, to say the least. He was so used to the Wizarding World being so separated from Muggles that the idea of them working together and being "blended" in this kind of establishment – for the betterment of Muggles, nonetheless – is strange. While he is shocked, he finds that he kind of agrees with what's going on here. Harry did grew up amongst Muggles and is now living in the Wizarding World so he has a vague idea of the pros and cons of each. He remembers Hermione say that even though witches and wizards have come up with various potions and spells that can cure ailments in a heartbeat, they are still way behind in terms of technology, architecture, and in Scientific things like anatomy. In short, the Wizarding World can learn a thing or two about Muggles and vice versa.

Harry stuffed the papers in his bag and stood up to go back to Celeste. His original plan was to figure out where Dr. Laurent's office was and go there using his Invisibility Cloak. A quick Confundus charm would probably loosen the doctor's tongue but now, he thinks that it's better to go to Building B and get the answers that he's looking for without having to sneak around.

"Can I help you, Mr. Evans?" Celeste asked once Harry was in front of her again.

"Hi, I'd like to know where Building B is and how I can get there?"

"Oh! You're--" The receptionist made a random gesture of waving her pointer finger in the air like it was a wand. Harry merely nodded. "Why didn't you say so?! No worries, no worries! Okay, down the east hall, there's a door labelled 'STAFF ONLY'. It's warded against Muggles so you don't have to worry about being followed whatsoever. There are several Floos inside that room. Just take your pick and say 'Building B'. It'll take you to the other part of our hospital."

"Got it, thank you so much!"

* * *

Roughly five minutes later, Harry stood in a room similar to where he Flooed from. It was also spacious and completely bare save for the several Floos lined up along the walls. The only difference between this room and the room where he came from is a small table by the door that held several pieces of papers: pamphlets, flyers, and even a map of the hospital that includes all its buildings.

Harry took one of the maps and headed out to where he assumed the lobby would be. 

The similarities between the main building of Hôpital Edouard Herriot and Building B is quite eerie. Everything is the same from the floors and walls down to the way the waiting chairs were lined up. If it wasn't for the hustle and bustle of wizards and witches as well as the gentle thrum of magic all around, Harry would've thought that he's still in the main building. It was quite obvious that the people around him are of magical descent. Most of them are wearing robes, both casual and work ones. Some of them also sported weird looking illnesses like growing another head or having their skin become translucent to a point where Harry could see the veins and vessels running throughout the wizard's arm. He knows that those aren't something that Muggles could have and can only be tragic results of a spell gone wrong. 

Harry walked past the waiting area wand headed over to the receptionist. He almost jumped in surprise when the witch behind the desk looked up because he spoke to that same face mere minutes ago.

"Celeste?" Harry asked, confused.

"Ah, I see you've met my sister." The witch in front of him commented before tapping the name tag on her uniform. "I'm Claudette. How can I help you today?"

It was odd. Harry knew that she was speaking French. Her words were most definitely not English when she uttered them but he perfectly understood each and every word. Maybe a translation spell was active. 

The young Auror kindly smiled at the receptionist, finding her both easier and harder to talk to than Celeste. The familiar face was nice – he was accustomed to the concept of twins after all – but it was also strange because they looked exactly the same, from their faces to their uniforms up to their hairstyles. They also spoke the same way, adopting the professional and friendly tone that Harry could recognize despite the language barrier. It was strange indeed but Harry just shook it off. He wasn't here to analyze people. He was here to find one. 

"Hi, yes. Um…" Harry started to say. He was having a hard time figuring out what to say. Should he go direct to the point again or should he approach from a different angle? He decided to just wing it. "I was at the main building inquiring about your cancer treatment program? I…I was given forms and it said that I should head here for further assistance. You see, my aunt has cancer…breast cancer. She's a Muggle and my family heard about this place and how you're the leading facility for cancer treatment."

Claudette clapped her hands together once, seeming pleased about the last statement.

"Yes, indeed!" She exclaimed. "We have received several recognitions in the past year alone, both Muggle and Magical might I add. The usual cancer treatment potions usually take around two months at the earliest to take full effect, correct?"

Harry only nodded. He knew about this. The Cell Cleansing Potion is something that the patient has to take regularly for a span of two to three months until they are fully healed. The average duration currently stands at three months. It was rare for someone to recover at the two month mark. Looking back at the conversation that he heard in the pub back in England, it was the very first time that someone has recovered in just six weeks. Harry still isn't as well-versed in Potions as he would like to be but he knew that while the Cell Cleansing Potion is quite common in terms of brewing method and ingredients, the components itself are volatile and are extremely tricky to play around with. He remembers a conversation that he had with Hermione wherein they talked about how altering the ingredients of the potion – or even just changing its state or composition – can turn it into a poison as potent as a Black Mamba's venom. 

"Well, our research team has managed to find a way to modify the potion. It's all hush hush, of course but I am such a huge fan of their work and---" Claudette stopped herself mid-sentence, realizing that she's still at work and should therefore maintain a professional appearance and behavior. "I mean, yes. I can assist you with your concern, Mr…?"

"James Evans."

"Right. Same procedure as what my sister told you, Mr. Evans. You just have to fill out those forms and send it via owl. Since your aunt is a Muggle, she would have to be admitted in the main building once she's accepted in the program. If you have any questions about the specifications of the program, I can direct you to the magical division of our Cancer Research and Treatment Program. You can also refer to the pamphlets for more information."

"I was actually wondering if I could talk to any member of the treatment program? Celeste mentioned that Dr. Laurent is not available but is there someone else in-charge that I could talk to?"

Claudette's brows furrowed a bit, probably confused as to why the man in front of her is so keen to talk to the higher ups. Harry – getting the feeling that the receptionist is about to drill him with twenty questions – waved his hand to cast a wandless and non-verbal Confundus charm. He wasn't an expert at such manner of spellwork so the effects of the spell are much more mild than if he were to cast it with a wand. Luckily, the mildness was perfect to disorient Claudette, making her vulnerable to suggestions and persuasions.

"Is there anyone from the Cancer Research and Treatment Program that I can talk to?" Harry tried again, willing his voice to be gentle despite his patience slowly but surely running thin. 

"Uh, Healer Vartan is the head for the magical division of the program." Claudette started to say, her voice seeming far away and just confused. Harry thought that, if used the right way, the Confundus charm can definitely have the same effects as the Imperius curse. He filed that information away for future use. "They're usually in the Oncology Department. Fifth floor, west wing. Elevators are on the right."

"Thanks, Claudette." Harry said, already walking away to go up to the fifth floor. 

" _Level 5: Muggle Liason Office, Oncology Department, and Administration Offices_ "

Harry stepped out of the elevator and looked around. He spotted another reception desk just a short distance away from where he stood. 

"I'm here to see Healer Vartan." He told the wizard behind the desk who seemed to be quite busy writing down things on a piece of paper.

"Do you have an appointment with them?" was the other man's response. Not bothering to look up at whoever was speaking.

"Uh, no," Harry answered. "But I just want to ask them a few questions regarding their work. It would only be for a few minutes, I swear."

"I'm sorry but Healer Vartan is busy. I could set up an appointment for you but it wouldn't be for another two weeks."

"I can't wait for another two weeks!" Harry said with an impatient – almost rude – tone as he became more frustrated. "Just five minutes. I just need to ask them about somethi--"

"I think I could spare five minutes." A deep melodic voice suddenly spoke from somewhete behind Harry, cutting off whatever the Auror was about to say. He turned around to see a tall, dark-skinned woman dressed in ivory white Healer robes that indicated their status as head of one the department. They sported a buzz cut that's been dyed blond and high cheekbones that intimated Harry just a tad bit. He would've been more intimidated if the Healer didn't have dark circles under their eyes paired with a tired smile.

"Healer Vartan--" The wizard behind the desk said in a surprised tone, not expecting the healer in question to appear out of nowhere.

"It's alright, Auclair." Healer Vartan assured the wizard, raising a hand and making a placating gesture. "I'm on lunch break anyways."

They then turned to Harry with the same fatigued smile that they gave Auclair. 

"I'm Healer Vartan," They introduced themselves. "I understand that you have some questions for me. I would suggest a more formal venue like my office but, seeing as I am yet to have my first meal of the day, the department's break room would suffice, yes?"

"Sure, no problem." Harry nodded, not really bothered by the setting. However, Vartan's comment about their eating habits reminded Harry of the fact that he also skipped breakfast in order to catch his Portkey in time. He pushed down the discomfort brought upon by his light hunger and followed the healer to the staff break room.  
  
"Make yourself comfortable." Vartan said as they went over to the fridge and took out a container of what seemed to be Chinese takeout. They popped it in the microwave and turned back to Harry who was now sitting on one of the dining chairs. "Now, Mr. Potter, what brings you to our hospital?"

"H-How--" Harry spluttered, eyes wide with shock. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again as he temporarily lost the ability to form coherent words. He didn't expect anyone to recognize him here in France just from his face. Well, his scar did stuck out like a sore thumb but it was currently covered by his fringe.

"My apologies for taking you by surprise," Vartan started to say. "But I did spend a few years in England during the war. It's difficult not to memorize your face when it's splattered on The Prophet as Undesirable No.1."

Harry felt a bit relieved at that. Being known as a faux criminal was preferable over having a stalker all the way from France.

"Right, okay." He began as he thought about where to start. "I'm not here on Auror business but I am here to ask if you've seen someone…or if you know this person."

Vartan raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

"Don't worry! They're not a criminal!" Harry assured them. "It's just…this person has been missing for over five years now and I have reason to believe that he's here in France and that he's either involved in this whole cancer treatment business or you know him."

"And who might this person be?" The Healer asked as the microwave let out a loud beep, signalling that the food inside was already heated up. Vartan took their food out and sat in front of Harry.

"Draco Malfoy."

Vartan was in the middle of chewing their food when Harry spoke. They seemed to be surprised judging by how they choked on their food followed by a coughing fit.

"D-Draco Malfoy?!" They said, pounding their fist on their chest. "He's been missing? For the last five years?"

Harry sat up straighter, wanting to observe every single reaction that Vartan gives him. They seem to know Draco and Harry is prepared to do whatever it takes to get information if that familiarity is on a personal level.

"Yes," He answered. "Did you know him?"

"Not personally, no." Vartan replied with a shake of their head as they took another bite of chow mein. "I read his research paper about the possible use of belladonna extract to accelerate cell repair. It was interesting so I offered him a position amongst our trainee staff despite the numerous protests against it. However, my owl came back unopened. I guess it never even reached its destination."

"And when was this?"

"Roughly five years ago…? I thought that he would rather work in the Ministry like his father than be an intern here." Vartan said with a shrug as they continued to eat. "How did he go missing though?"

"That's confidential information. Have you seen him anywhere recently?"

"That's confidential information."

Harry let out a huff followed by a sigh. He didn't have the time nor the patience for this.

"Fine," He said in a clipped tone. "Draco blew up his family home and disappeared. That's it. That's all we know for now."

"Hmm…" Vartan hummed thoughtfully, finishing the last bites of their lunch. They wiped the corners of their mouth before leaning back on the chair and looking at Harry with a calculating look. "Why now and why here?"

Harry didn't really want to say more than what was necessary but Vartan seems to know more than they're letting on. The Auror just let out another sigh before talking about what made him come to France.

"One of Draco's friends mentioned an apprenticeship here in Lyon and… I overheard a couple of Muggles talk about a revolutionary cancer treatment program here." Harry explained, intentionally leaving out the part where he first went to France all those years ago . "Of course, Muggles still haven't come up with a cancer treatment method that is as effective as the Cell Cleansing Potion, so I assumed that it's the work of wizards. I do admit that I'm stretching it out by assuming that Draco is involved in this but he has always been a smart and talented student at Hogwarts. I wouldn't be surprised if he is – involved, I mean. Now, if that's not the case, I was hoping to atleast ask well-known Potions Masters around here to know if they've seen him."

"Hmm..." Vartan hummed again. They look like they were thinking deep about something. Harry just sat there. Waiting. The both of them just sat in silence for a few minutes. It was starting to make Harry uncomfortable. He was hungry and tired but he'll be damned if he was going to be intimated by the Healer in front of him, not when he feels like he's already getting closer to finding Draco. 

Vartan then vanished the remnants of their lunch and took a deep breath before finally, finally speaking.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter but, as you can tell, I haven't seen Draco Malfoy in years."

"But--"

"But," the Healer said, raising a hand to cut off whatever Harry was about to say. "I can refer you to the Potions Master that's been helping us brew the Cell Cleansing Potion. He is an absolute genius, one of the best people that I've ever met. If Mr. Malfoy truly is seeking an apprenticeship – in Potions, atleast – he would be one of the people that he would go to. If not… then I guess you know how to go on from there."

Vartan then glanced at their wristwatch before standing up. 

"I'd like to stay and chat but a time-sensitive potion is currently brewing in my lab and I should get back to it soon."

"Wait--" Harry said just as the Healer opened the door to leave. Vartan stopped and looked at him, a questioning eyebrow raised. "Why are you helping me? I'm not even on official Auror business. I mean, I'm really grateful but you don't have obligation to do that."

"It's the least I could do for the man who saved us all from the Dark Lord." The Healer said simply. "I'll have Auclair give you the name and address of our Potions Master. If you have any questions, feel free to ask him."

"Thank you." Harry said, gratefulness evident in his tone. Vartan gave him a small tired smile in return before walking out the door. 

* * *

It turns out that, no… Auclair wasn't as willing to answer any of Harry's questions as Vartan made him out to be.

The only information that he got out of the wizard was the name and address of the Potions Master as well as his role in the hospital's program.

Adhil Blanchet. A world-renowed Potions Master despite only making a name for himself in the recent years. He is the true brain behind the hospital's cancer treatment program. 

Hôpital Edouard Herriot was originally purely a Muggle facility, only catering to non-magic folks. However, with the changing of tides, witches and wizards have also started working in Muggle hospitals, using magic to accelerate the healing of their patients and also educating themselves on the advancement of Muggle medicine and technology.

In time, the French Ministry of Magic decided to work together with its Muggle counterpart for the improvement of both Muggle and Magical healing. At first, magic was only used to improve a patient's recovery time and only during the most dire of circumstances. However, just a few years back, they were approached by a man who introduced himself as Adhil Blanchet. He presented them with the idea of using the Cell Cleansing Potion on Muggles along with an experimental formula that reduced the recovery time by 10% at first. Blanchett is still working with them in an effort to improve the potion to the best of their abilities without sacrificing its safety and effectiveness. The Potions Master is also coming up with new discoveries on a daily basis but Auclair refused to tell Harry what exactly those discoveries are.

* * *

An hour later, Harry stood in the middle of a place called Place Sathonay, a square that's located in the heart of Lyon's first district. In the middle of it was a statue of some historical figure, probably an old mayor or something. He could've Apparated directly to the address that he was given but he wasn't sure if there are wards protecting the Potions Master's residence. A failed Apparation will result into landing in the closest free area beside the original destination. Harry didn't know the area well so he couldn't risk suddenly appearing in front of Muggles. That would be unwise and would result into him being kicked back to England in a snap. So, he resorted into travelling by Floo powder to the nearest wizarding establishment near Place Sathonay. Luckily, it was a pub just two blocks away from the square. The only thing he had to do was walk here to this mini-park and figure where to go from there.

Harry looked around and saw a number of restaurants and shops that surrounded the square. He was tempted to grab a quick bite before heading over to where he was supposed to go but, once again, he pushed down the gnawing feeling of hunger and walked towards one of the streets to Adhil Blanchett's house.

The address written on the paper led him to a townhouse five minutes away from Place Sathonay. A small pocket of a garden that's surrounded by a black wrought iron fence gave the illusion of a front porch. Its bushes were blooming with small white flowers and it looked well-kept and taken care of. Harry pushed open the short gate and walked over to the black door. It had a strange looking brass knocker that resembled an urn. If Harry looked closer, he would have seen different floral patterns faintly printed on the metal but the Auror overlooked it due to the gloom of the sky that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. There was little sunshine that can bring attention to the tiny details on the door.

Harry braced himself and knocked three times. 

There was silence for a few moments. It was then followed by muffled voice and footsteps on a hardwood floor. Another moment of silence. It was longer this time. 

Harry stood there uneasy as the silence was drawn out longer than before. All he could hear was the sound of his own heart beating as well as the soft blowing of the breeze. He thought about knocking again but the Auror only took a deep breath. For some reason, his body felt tense as if he's waiting for something… or someone. His hands were tingling with nerves to a point where it was almost painful. He took another deep breath while clenching and unclenching his fists in an attempt to calm himself down. 

He was just about to leave, maybe come back another day, when his ears caught the sound of multiple locks being unlocked and bolts being unbolted. The door started to open and Harry was prepared to see a familiar face, a face that he hasn't seen in so long except in dreams and memories. The face of someone that he spent the majority of the past years looking for. The face of someone that makes him feel all sorts of feelings that he couldn't explain. Feelings that he couldn't even attempt to unpack and untangle without that person in front of him lest he is left to deal with all of it alone for the rest of his life.

He was prepared to see HIS face. 

However, disappointment filled his body as he came face-to-face with a stranger.

* * *

Adhil was in his potions lab, stirring the final batch of Better Pepper-Up Potion included in this week's order when several knocks that reverberated throughout his house disturbed him.

The young man sighed and cast a Stasis charm over the cauldron. He then took off his dragonhide gloves and went upstairs to see who his visitor was. 

His wards were calm. Whoever was behind the door has no ill-intent towards him or anything in the property. They felt familiar too. Is it Vartan? What do they want? Or maybe it's Auclair? But either of them would definitely send an owl first before visiting.

Adhil went to look through the peephole. His knees almost gave out when he saw who was behind the door.

Harry Potter was at his doorstep. How?

He should've expected this. He did intend for this to happen at some point in time but not so soon. It was too soon. And he was alone in Muggle clothes. No Auror partner. No backup.

* * *

Harry stared at the face in front of him. His brows furrowed at the platinum blond hair that sparked something in his mind but his logic seemed to have failed in connecting his thought processes to come up with an answer. The stranger's eyes, nose, cheekbones, and lips are all familiar to him. The way those steel grey eyes curiously looked at him is also eerily familiar but he couldn't understand why.

The man in front of him cleared his throat before speaking.

"Can I help you?"

The voice was calm, formal, and polite. Both familiar and unfamiliar to Harry at the same time. However, now is not the time for fruitless contemplations that only gave him circle reasonings.

"Good afternoon, I'm Auror Harry Potter from the British Ministry of Magic," He began. "I'm looking for a Mr. Adhil Blanchet…?"

The man gestured to himself. This must be Adhil. 

Harry's eyes travelled from Adhil's face down to his body. His eyes caught a glint of a silver chain hanging around his neck, visible thanks to the top two buttons being undone on the man's crisp white button up shirt. 

"Yes?" Adhil asked, making Harry's attention go back to his face.

"As head of the Ministry's Investigation Department, I would like to ask you a few questions regarding a case that we've been investigating for years." Harry replied, showing his Auror badge for good measure. "May I come in?"

Adhil sighed and moved to open the door wider, allowing Harry to step inside. The door was immediately closed behind him and the locks were set back into place. They made their way from the foyer to the living room where Adhil invited Harry to sit down. With an elegant wave of his wand, the blond summoned tea from the direction of what seemed to be the kitchen. Harry took the opportunity to have a quick look at the interior of the Potions Master's home. It kind of reminded him of Grimmauld Place but a bit bigger and definitely brighter. White seemed to be a common theme for this house. While the floor was made of dark brown wood arranged in a double herringbone parquet, the walls, on the other hand, were white. The furniture was also in varying degrees of ivory to light gray and even the chandelier that hung above them seemed to be made of white crystals. 

Harry half expected the room to feel like an asylum or a hospital ward what with all the whiteness but it was anything but that. Elegance and sophistication dripped from every item. It felt like each piece was carefully chosen to compliment each other. It was refreshing and sort of uplifting. Two tall windows helped with the refreshing ambience. Harry figured that they would normally allow natural sunlight to shine into the living room but the impending storm prevented that from happening.

The Auror was pulled away from his thoughts of admiring the interior design when a cup of tea was placed in front of him. He muttered a quick thanks to Adhil and proceeded to add two sugars in his tea along with a splash of milk. He hummed at the first sip of the hot beverage. It tasted perfect. Just like how he made it back home.

"Earl grey?" Harry inquired, pinpointing the reason why the tasted good. The blond merely hummed in confirmation as he sipped his own cup of tea.

"Now," Adhil spoke, as he set down his cup on the coffee table. He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other before looking at Harry with a perfectly schooled expression of neutrality. Something about this man's entire stature is nagging at Harry's brain. He feels like he already had the answer at the tip of his tongue but his tongue seems to be miles and miles long. "I'm sure that we're not here to talk about tea preferences. What brings you to France, Auror Potter?"

Harry set his own cup down – appreciating the beautiful floral details that it has – before replying.

"Well, five years ago Draco Malfoy went missing. It's been some time and, while I am not certain, I have reason to believe that he's here in France."

Adhil continued to watch him in silence. The slight falter in his breathing was the only indication that he had heard what has been said. 

"I came here because Healer Vartan gave me your name and address," Harry continued. "He said that, you're the most renowed Potions Master as of late and anyone who's seeking an apprenticeship will go to you."

"Mr. Potter, whoever Mr. Malfoy was, I highly doubt that he would come to someone as new as I am."

"But you must have worked with him, atleast? Or can point me to someone who might have seen him?"

"Why?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why?" Adhil repeated. "After all this time… why are you still looking for him?"

"I…I am the Auror in charge of his case." Harry said, trying to keep his tone steady. "I have to find him no matter what it takes."

At that point, Adhil stood up and went over to the fireplace. He picked up a snow globe and examined it. Harry watched him in return. He noticed how the other man's brows furrowed as if he's genuinely confused about something.

"He's a convicted Death Eater, is he not?"

"Was." Harry clarified. The blond was done looking at the snow globe judging by how he set it back on the mantlepiece. "He was a Death Eater, yes. But he wasn't really convicted. Only put on probation. He didn't deserve to be locked up in Azkaban."

"Why not?"

Harry was being put off by all of these questions. He was the Auror here. He was supposed to be the one to ask the questions, not answer them. And yet, he couldn't help but speak his mind.

"We were young." He replied then stayed silent for a few moments before taking a deep breath. "We were only children during the war. Our actions were fueled by the desire to save ourselves and those we care about. It just so happens that Draco Malfoy got the short end of the stick and he had to be a Death Eater to ensure his and his family's safety.

He also saved my life. He and his mother saved my life. I wouldn't be standing here without him…them."

Another silence passed between them. Harry picked up his cup of tea and took a sip from it. His eyes caught something inside the cup. Something was painted on it. He was tempted to down the hot drink at once but he didn't fancy burning his throat so he settled for occasionally drinking it until the tea is gone. Adhil simply stood there, not saying anything. The man finally spoke shortly after Harry finished his tea.

"My apologies, Auror Potter," he said, turning towards Harry with a blank expression. He noticed that Adhil's hand was on his chest, feeling for something. It was probably the pendant that hung from the silver chain on his neck. "I haven't seen nor heard from Draco Malfoy at all."

Harry set the cup back down on the coffee table.

"But you know him, don't you? You've met him once before? Do you know others that may know him as well?" He asked, tone becoming just slightly frantic as he clutched on every word and reaction that the Potions Master is giving him. Anything. Anything that will give him more information and nudge him to the right track.

"No." Was the blond's clipped response. "My apologies but I have to get back to my lab. My potions will not brew themselves. I trust that you can see yourself out."

Adhil didn't even take his wand out this time but Harry heard several clicking sounds from the front door. It was unlocking itself, preparing for the departure of its visitor. Harry admired the wandless and non-verbal magic that the blond seemed to have an affinity with. Of course, it can also just be the house listening to its owner but it didn't have the same sentient feeling as Hogwarts or Grimmauld Place so it can only just be the other man's magical capabilities.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr. Blanchet." Harry said as he got up from the couch. He knows that he's not likely to get anymore information from the other man. Best to leave now and return another day.

The moment Harry stepped out on the front porch, the door closed behind him. It was immediately followed by more clicking sounds as the locks were put back into place. He sighed and walked to a hidden alley where he could apparate to Wizarding Paris to find an inn he can stay at.

If only the young Auror wore the Masidec during the visit, he would see it glow the faintest of light blues. 

* * *

The moment he heard the door close and the locks be put back into place, Adhil let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. He then fell back onto the couch, mind running a million miles a minute. 

Five years. 

Five years have passed and yet Harry Potter was still looking for Draco Malfoy. 

Five long years. 

It was by a stroke of luck that Potter just had to be the Auror – the lone one, it seems like – assigned on this particular case, letting him have free reign over the entire investigation along with every decision and evidence. 

The young Potions Master doesn't know what to feel. He's torn between being relieved and being troubled. 

On one hand, he's already built a life here in France. A reputable one. People are finally looking at him for his skills and expertise alone. On the other hand, however, he would be lying if he says that he doesn't miss anything about where he came from. The letters currently sitting on his study desk attested to that. 

He didn't regret leaving though. At that time, it felt like the wisest choice and it still does. He feels happy here. Relaxed. Calm. He is finally free from other people's expectations, from being the heir that he was raised to be, from being the prejudiced little git that he was molded to be. Not only was his fortune entirely his but it was also the fruits of his labours – having earned every galleon, sickle, and knut all by himself with nothing but his abilities coupled with hard work.

Speaking of expectations and upbringings, that's one thing that he loves about being in France. The anonymity. No one knows him here. No one knows his past. No one even knows what his real name really is and if they did, it will bring less uproar than if it were to be uttered in Britain. They only know his work and they respect him for that. As long as he continues to be Adhil, the young upstart Potions Master who is intent on uniting wizards and Muggles through medicine, he could continue to have a good life.

However, he can't deny the loneliness that he's feeling. He does have a few friends here and there but they know him as Adhil. Not by his true identity. Not a day goes by that he doesn't miss the presence of his friends that he's known since they were in nappies and the sense of belongingness that he feels when they spend time together.

Maybe that's why he finally faltered.

For years, he has managed to not come in contact with anyone except for one. The letters he sent are all clean and void of any magical signatures, having the ability to both remove and mask them. However, a few weeks ago, he slipped. The gift that he sent wasn't entirely untraceable. He left the tiniest bit of his magic in there. Did he become reckless? Negligent? Complacent? Or did his subconscious finally caught up to him, letting him know what he truly wants and needs?

This is what he wanted, right? For the past few weeks, he's been trying to convince himself that it was an accident. That he was probably too tired, that's why he slipped but, deep down, he knows that he's not that kind of a person. No matter how tired he is, he will never forget essential things like stirring a specific potion thrice clockwise, twice counter-clockwise every four minutes or getting rid of his magical signature from an object that he made so that he cannot be traced by anyone.

In all honesty, he was surprised that it worked. Each letter that he sends Pansy insistently tells her that he's happy, he's okay, he's eating three meals a day (a bit of a lie), and that he's never going back to Britain. That rules her out as someone who will try and find him even if he gives her a million clues. That's just how they respect each other. For his actions to lead Potter here, that would mean that he never did stop looking. He never did stop searching. Never let go of the hope that maybe one day he'll find Draco.

And while it's true that he has no plans of returning to Britain, he thinks that maybe now is the time to let people from his past back into his life.

"Make amends with your past to avoid regrets in the future." That's what his godfather told him. 

It was just his luck that Potter is one of those people to barge back into his life.

The thought is a little disturbing but it nevertheless brought a small smile on his face. 

* * *

The next day, Harry decided to not go back to Place Sathonay. Instead, he went to explore Wizarding Paris, specifically the shopping district named "Rue de l'Horizon". He has already been here once, when he was first investigating Draco's disappearance. That was a few years ago. Nothing much has changed since then except for a few new shops here and there as well as the new fashion trend that the clothing shop has on display.

Last night, Harry sent an owl to Healer Vartan asking if Adhil has an establishment of his own, an apothecary or a potions shop. The Healer responded just this morning with a simple address written on a small piece of paper along with a note that simply says:

"I told you nothing."

This is how Harry found himself standing in front of a potions shop named "La Jonquille". He doesn't know what that means. Its name was written in a fancy gold script against the muted green wood of the building's facade along with an illustration of a wreath of flowers. The shop is located in a street that's a little further away from the hustle and bustle of the main shopping district. He could see a number of witches and wizards still walking around but it was significantly less crowded here. " _La Jonquille_ " is sandwiched between a magical menagerie shop on the left and a fancy looking robes shop on the right. Harry figured that there's a café nearby judging by the faint smell of pastries that's mingled with other strange smells coming from the menagerie.

This time, Harry didn't forget about the Masidec. It now hung on his neck, the cool pendant resting against his warm chest. He didn't want it to be exposed too much because it was still quite fragile so he resorted to keeping it inside his shirt. Its usual hollowed crystal was now filled with what little of Draco's magical signature Harry could extract from the box that Luna gave him. It was so faint that he has a theory that its glow might almost be unnoticeable to the naked eye. He would probably have to be a lot closer for the Masidec to detect the owner of the magic that it has encapsulated. 

Harry glanced at the window and saw that a familiar shock of blond hair was already standing by the shelves. It makes sense. It's already nearing noon and the shop probably opens at a god awful time of the day. 

The Auror braced himself and went inside.

* * *

A melodic tinkle of chimes alerted Adhil to a new customer that has just entered the shop. He was currently standing by the shelves filled with healing potions, a notepad in hand as he jotted down the ones he needs to brew a batch of. He's the only one in the shop for now. His assistant, Sonya, went to have an early lunch so that they would both be prepared for the afternoon rush of customers. Business was always a little slow in the morning to early noon so, the Potions Master always takes this opportunity to make an initial inventory of his stock. 

"Uhm, hello?" An awfully familiar voice said from behind him, making Adhil snap his head towards the direction of the door. There, standing awkwardly at the entrance of his shop was none other than Harry Potter. How he knew that Adhil had a shop at all was a mystery… or maybe it wasn't. He would have to talk to a certain acquaintance later this evening.

Adhil wiped off the shocked expression on his face and schooled it into the professional front reserved for new customers.

"Can I help you?" He asked with a level tone, writing '17' next to the 'Enhanced Skelegrow'. He would have to brew a fresh batch of it later or tomorrow. He then looked at the Auror who was still standing by his door, probably looking for the right words to say that wouldn't get him immediately kicked out of the shop.

"Mr. Blanchet--"

"Adhil."

"Sorry?"

"Call me Adhil," the blond clarified, with a frown. "We're roughly the same age, Mr. Potter. Addressing me by my last name makes me feel like I'm as old as Merlin himself."

"Well, call me Harry then."

Adhil sighed.

"Fine," he reluctantly agreed, already regretting the decision and berating himself internally. _What are you doing?! For a former Slytherin, you absolutely have no self-preservation right now_. "Now what brings you to my shop, _Harry_."

* * *

Something sparked inside Harry when he heard Adhil say his name. Like the voice itself, it was so familiar and yet so foreign. 

He is so confused and his head is starting to hurt from all the thoughts swimming inside his head. Harry feels like he knows the blond in front of him. He feels like he has seen him before, maybe even talked to him. However, one part of his brain is also saying that he has never met anyone named Adhil Blanchet. 

The Auror shook his head and tried to will his brain to think about what exactly he's here for: getting information.

"Didn't I already tell you that I haven't heard from Draco Malfoy?"

"I'm not here for that."

"Oh…" Adhil said, a bit surprised. "What are you here for then?"

"To ask you about your work."

Harry knows that it's a bit if a dirty tactic but he's actually genuinely curious about how exactly Adhil Blanchet is involved in the hospital's cancer treatment program, how he's managed to improve the Cell Cleansing Potion, and how he convinced the French Ministry of Magic to let wizards be involved with Muggle medicine.

Who knows? Maybe Adhil will open up to him and let him know what he needs to know. For now, Harry is stuck, having reached another dead end with the young Potions Master.

"My work…" The blond said dryly. "Very well, ask away."

"I was just wondering how you've managed to change the Cell Cleansing Potion's formula? It's an--"

"An extremely difficult potion to experiment with, yes." Adhil interrupted, turning his back to Harry to once again take inventory of the potions that he's got. "I admit, I spent years researching each and every ingredient as well as the effect of each step in the brewing process. In the end, it was a matter of decreasing its recovery time bit by bit, a few hours to a day at a time. It's like the potion is sentient. It can detect if any alterations are attempted on it. If it does, it just becomes as useless as mud water. You have to trick it into becoming more effective."

While Adhil spoke in that smooth voice – calm but filled with wonder and passion for his craft, Harry found himself walking closer to where the blond was standing until they were side by side. His chest felt just a tiny bit warm. 

"What's this for?" He asked, making the man beside him jump a little at the proximity of his voice. He was pointing at a small, dark green bottle with a brown label written in French.

" _Buisson ardent_ ," Adhil said once he has gotten over the shock of Harry appearing right beside him. His voice was like velvet and the foreign language rolled off elegantly from his tongue. It almost made Harry blush. "Dittany. Well, a more concentrated and effective formula of it atleast. A small drop can recover an entire leg's worth of flesh and skin in just four hours."

"Cool…" Harry said in admiration. That would've been useful a year ago during one of their more nasty cases. He was hit with a flesh eating curse that did exactly what it was expected to do. It ate through the skin, flesh, and muscle of his right arm until only the bone was left. It took the Healers two full weeks to patch him up and re-grow his skin. Harry pointed to another group of potions, this time it was the ones directly in front of Adhil. "How about these? What do they do?"

"Double Blood-Replenishing Potions," The blond answered in a more amicable tone. Harry could tell just how much he loves his work. How he loves talking about them as much as he loves brewing them. "Again, they're quicker and more effective. They're very sensitive to temperature though. I enchanted the shelf to have a temperature regulator to keep them cool."

Adhil let out a snort.

"Who would've thought that vodka can increase a potions effectiveness."

"Vodka?" Harry asked. "As in, the liquor? The 'two shots and you're hammered" liquor? That's your secret?"

"I didn't know that you were such a lightweight, Potter." There it was again. The way Harry's name was said was all too familiar yet different at the same time. He pushed that thought to the back of his brain. He's going to have a lot of time to think about things later. If he attempts to do so now, he might lose his mind. "But, yes. For this potion atleast. I wouldn't tell you the exact alcohol volume that I used though. You might run off and sell the formula to some little creature named Plankton."

"Plank-- You watch Spongebob Squarepants?!" 

Adhil just shrugged and muttered something about the Muggle show being the only entertaining thing that he could watch on the telly. 

Harry pointed to a few more potions, letting the other man explain what they are and how they work. He found himself enjoying hearing about these potions despite not being good at them during his school years.

"It's kinda your thing, isn't it?" The Auror asked after Adhil explained the sixth group of potions that Harry pointed at. 

"What is?"

"This," Harry gestured to the shelves of potions. "Improving potions. Making them more effective. I thought that you would be making your own potions but you're taking what's already there and making them better."

"That's what Muggle technology is about, isn't it?" Adhil replied, setting his notepad down on the counter by the till. It seems like he was done with what he was doing. "To make people's lives better? What's the use of inventing new novelty potions if we can improve what's already in our roster?"

Harry just hummed in both understanding and admiration, not really knowing what to say. Luckily, before the silence stretched out to into awkwardness, the chimes by the door tinkled again signalling the arrival of a new person. 

"Adhil!" A spritely female voice called out. The two wizards turned around to see a petite woman with a pixie cut standing by the entrance while holding a small paper bag. She stopped in her tracks as she realized that there was another person in the shop. "Oh! Bonjour, monsieur! Puis-je vous aider?"

"I don't--"

"He's English."

Harry and Adhil spoke at the same time.

"That's good then! I'm fluent in French but I still find it quite taxing to speak." The woman said in a heavy Russian accent before going over to Adhil and handing him the paper bag that she was holding. "As I was about to say, I got you your favorite kosants! You're welcome!"

The blond let out a sigh but peeked into the bag. The scent of freshly baked pastries wafted from the bag and into Harry's nose. It was heavenly. He had quite a heavy breakfast but he figured that the smell of baked goods is bound to make anyone hungry.

"It's _croissant_ , Sonya." Adhil corrected, seemingly exasperated but Harry could detect a hint of amusement in his tone. "But thank you."

"Eh, same thing." Sonya said, waving his correction off. She then turned to Harry and eyed him down from head to toe. Sonya was atleast half a feet shorter than him but she was still quite intimidating. Her narrowed eyes looked at him with suspicion. "And who are you?"

"I'm…" Harry started to say but was immediately cut off by Adhil.

"Sonya, this is my friend, Harry Potter."

Sonya looked at him suspiciously before shrugging and reaching out her hand for Harry to shake.

"Sonya Turgenev," she introduced herself. "Nice to meet you. You're an Auror, aren't you?"

"Is it obvious?"

"To normal people, no." The woman said. "But to me, your stature screams 'law enforcement' but there's…"

"That's enough, Sonya," Adhil interrupted. "I do believe that we have a crate of beetle eyes that needs sorting?"

"Eh, Mr. Potter here is much more interesting than beetle eyes."

The chimes tinkled again. It seems like the late morning lull is over as customers were starting to file into the shop. Soon enough, Adhil and Sonya's attention were divided between patrons. Harry saw the diversity of the shop's customers. From those in simple work robes to those wearing highly fashionable ones. It looks like " _La Jonquille_ " is the go-to potions shop in Wizarding Paris. 

"I should get going." Harry announced. Adhil was on the till assisting an elderly witch with her purchase of Better Pepper-Up potion while Sonya was in a quiet corner of the shop, sorting through the beetle eyes just like what Adhil told her to do. The blond only gave him a nod while the woman eyed him. 

Her attention seemed to be caught by something on Harry's chest.

"What's that?" She asked, nodding in his direction and pointing to her own chest. She had a pair of goggles on. Its lenses were similar to camera lenses that could zoom in and out.

Harry's head immediately snapped down to look at his chest. He had to squint to see the faint baby blue glow that it's emitting. He immediately reached into his shirt and took out the pendant to examine it closely.

"Is that a talisman?" He heard Sonya ask but Harry ignored her. He was was too busy staring at the Masidec. He blinked one, twice, thrice. It was indeed glowing. It was faint but it was glowing. He looked at Sonya, eyes frantic and heart starting to beat wild inside his chest.

"How long has it been glowing?" He asked, walking over to the woman while holding up the pendant of the device. Sonya shrugged and went back to sorting the miniscule beetle eyes.

"I don't know. I only noticed it because of this," she replied, tapping the goggles that she wore. She then scooped up the pile of rejects into a bin before resuming her work with a new batch. 

Harry let go of the pendant and let it sit over his shirt as he looked around.

The shop was empty save for him, Adhil, and Sonya. The elderly woman that Adhil was assisting earlier was now done with her purchase and had just stepped out of the door. Harry knows that it wouldn't be empty for long. Adhil mentioned that "La Jonquille" had a slow but steady stream of customers. Most of their regular clients order their potions via owl post anyways.

Harry's gaze fell onto the Potions Master who was staring at him with a questioning look.

"I thought you were meant to get going?" Adhil asked.

"I…uh…"

Harry doesn't know what this means. Well, maybe he does know what it meant but for some reason his mind is refusing to process things. Its refusing to connect them and make sense of everything that he's known so far. He's the Head of the Investigation Department, for goodness' sake. It's his job to connect evidences and solve crimes. 

The Auror could feel his head starting to throb. It feels like he's standing in front of a locked door and he's forgotten where he put the key. The answer is right in front of him but something is blocking it. 

"Is he alright?"

"Potter?"

His head was starting to hurt now. The pain creeping in from his temples to his entire head, rendering him incapable of thinking about anything except for the pain itself. Harry clenched his jaw as he tried to endure it.

"I…headache…" His utterance was followed by a loud groan as a sharp bolt of excruciating pain hit him. It was getting more intense by the minute. He clutched his head in both of his hands in an attempt to subdue the agony but it was obviously not working.

* * *

After putting two and two together, Adhil rushed over to one of the shelves and grabbed a Headache Relieving Potion and a Dreamless Sleep Potion. He rushed to where the Auror was hunched over, head in between his hands and groans of anguish coming out of his mouth. 

"Potter…Potter! Harry!" Adhil called out, tapping the other man's arm. Sonya was standing nearby, goggles removed and her work neglected for the time being. She was ready for any instruction that Adhil was going to give her. "Sonya, hold his arms. I need to…"

His assistant immediately went to do what she's been told. She grabbed Harry's forearms and willed them away from his head while Adhil held the Auror's chin.

"Harry, you have to open your mouth…" The blond pleaded. "This is just a Headache Potion."

Thankfully, Harry seemed to comprehend what he said. His mouth opened slightly, just enough for Adhil to pour in the potion. 

A few moments passed.

Harry's breath became a little less laboured. His arms fell back to his sides as he started to calm down. Adhil made him sit on the chair that Sonya was sitting on earlier while the latter went to fetch him a glass of water. 

"I'm sorry…" He mumbled after downing the beverage in one go. "I…I don't know what happened."

Adhil and Sonya stared at each other over Harry's head, a silent conversation happening between the two of them. This exchange went unnoticed by the Auror who was now rubbing his temples with closed eyes.

"Does it still hurt?" Sonya asked.

"Yeah, a bit."

"It shouldn't hurt at all! Adhil gave you our strongest and most effective formula."

"I think you need to rest. It's probably fatigue. Here," Adhil said, handing Harry the bottle of Dreamless Sleep. "That will knock you out for around 12 hours. Go to the Healers if your head still hurts by then."

The previous pain must have been quite intense and the current one starting to amplify again because all Harry did was nod in response and take the bottle handed to him.

"Thanks," He mumbled with a tired yet grateful smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Adhil and Sonya watched him leave in silence.

"It's him, right? Does he know?" Sonya asked the moment Harry was gone. Adhil took a deep breath sat down on the chair that the Auror was occupying a mere minutes ago. 

"No," He replied, feeling the pendant of his necklace through his shirt. The small trinket usually brought him comfort but now it's just increasing the anxiety that he's feeling. "But he might discover the truth soon."

"What are you going to do?"

"I…I don't know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have lied? Or atleast underestimated my own fic. I thought that I could fit the ending in one chapter but, alas, I couldn't.
> 
> I apologize for the long wait!
> 
> I have once again split this chapter into two and this is the first part. 😊
> 
> The next chapter will definitely be the LAST one and then we just have the epilogue left.
> 
> I want to thank everyone who has stuck with this fic so far! Some of you even took the time to message me on Twitter and I really do appreciate that a lot. You keep me going! 💖
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always welcome! I hope you enjoy this chapter. 🥰
> 
> If you have questions regarding anything or if you want to check my writing progress, you can always reach me through these links:
> 
> CC: [ ysaintlorraine ](https://curiouscat.qa/ysaintlorraine)  
> Twitter: [ @ysaintlorraine ](https://twitter.com/ysaintlorraine)


	6. Solved

Harry got back to the inn in Lyon in one piece. The blinding headache exhausted him but once he stepped out of the shop and into the open air, the throbbing significantly decreased until it fully disappeared. He walked further along the streets of " _Rue de l'Horizon_ " before disapparating back to Lyon. 

Despite not keeling over himself from pain, he was still far too exhausted to think about what happened at the shop so he downed the Dreamless Sleep and got under the covers. He passed out almost immediately.

He would remain unconscious to the world for the next 12 hours. 

* * *

The first thing that Harry became aware of when he woke up was the darkness that surrounded him. The only light that he could see came from the window. The soft orange tinted light from the street lamps filtered into the room and helped him see. 

A quick Tempus charm told him that it was just a little past midnight. 

The second thing that Harry became aware of was the alertness that he felt. It was strange since his body would always feel like lead whenever he takes Dreamless Sleep. It was a side-effect that he didn't particularly like but it was favourable to the nightmares that used to plague him on a nightly basis. This time, however, he felt well-rested and as fresh as a daisy. Whatever formula Adhil came up with, it was amazing. Absolutely revolutionary and also quite addicting. It's both better and worse than the original because its lack of side-effects will definitely have witches and wizards scrambling to get it. That is, if they haven't already done that. 

Speaking of the blond Potions Master…

Harry wandlessly turned on the lights in the room and looked down at the Masidec that was still hanging on his neck. It still contained Draco's magical signature. 

The events that occured 12 hours earlier were all coming back to him now. He was just about to leave the shop when Sonya caught his attention and called out the thing that's on his chest. The Masidec glowed. The Masidec glowed a baby blue shade earlier while he was at " _La Jonquille_ ". It meant that Draco was nearby during that time. Did he walk past the shop and Harry just didn't notice? 

The Auror shook his head. He was still sold on the theory that a close proximity would be required for the device to work to its fullest capacity because of how little of Draco's magical signature he has managed to get into hollowed crystal. That means that Draco must have been in the room for the Masidec to glow.

There were only three people in the shop when Sonya noticed the Masidec's light: Harry, Sonya, and Adhil.

There was no sign of Draco Malfoy anywhere.

Unless…

Unfortunately, Harry's thoughts were interrupted a sharp rapping on the window. He looked up to see one of the cutest owls that he has ever seen in his life. It was small and fluffy. It's yellow eyes looked at him innocently. Harry recognized it as a long-eared owl due to its lengthy ears that stuck out of its head like antennas. He saw that it was holding a small package so Harry went over to let the owl in. He was surprised when all it did was drop its delivery on the desk before flying back into the night.

The package was small, roughly the size of his entire palm. Harry removed the brown wrapping paper to reveal a black box that's simple and unassuming. Nothing was written on it to identify where it came from aside from the small wreath of flowers imprinted in gold at the bottom right of the lid. He vaguely recognized it as the symbol of " _La Jonquille_ ".

Despite knowing the package's origin, Harry still cast the usual curse detection spells. It has become a habit by now what with all the fan mail, hate mail, and death threats that he has been getting since he was still a student at Hogwarts. Once the box has been deemed clean and curse free, Harry carefully opened it to reveal several vials of potions inside along with a folded sheet of paper. The paper held a short note along with instructions about the potions. 

" _Mr. Potter,_

_I hope that you are feeling better by now._

_Adhil instructed me to send you more Headache Relieving Potions. Two of these are the standard formula since you might have adverse reactions to our improved one. The remaining vial is Adhil's own formula just in case it did work and you prefer to take it._

_We are also sending you a vial each of Better Pepper-Up as well as Dreamless Sleep. Please use the latter with caution as it can still have side-effects if abused._

_Adhil sends his regards and explicit instructions for you to go to the Healers if you still feel ill._

_\- Sonya_ "

Once again, the letter bore a stamp on the lower right portion of the paper. Harry brought the paper to his face to inspect it closer. It looks like only two flowers made up the illustration: a familiar looking one with large petals and small little ones that might be baby's breath flowers. Harry knows that he's reaching too far into this but he couldn't help but be entranced by the large flowers that made up _La Jonquille's_ logo. It felt like he has seen them before.

It was crazy, he knows that. He also knows that he might be wrong but he would take being wrong over being kept in the dark. This is why Harry rummaged through his bag until he found the items that he was looking for.

Years of being read, re-read, and analyzed have worn out both the envelope and the paper quite a bit. However, its message was still readable. The wax seal of Draco's letter was still in tact and that is all Harry needs. 

The other item that he has retrieved from his bag is slightly worn out seeing as it was given to him only weeks ago. The brown tag that was attached to Luna and Pansy's wedding gift may be rumpled at the edges but the illustration on it was still clear and recognizable.

Harry laid the three items next to each other with the letter from Sonya right in the middle. He aligned the illustrations together and inspected then closely.

The symbols from the wax seal and the tag were quite similar. They were almost identical in the way that their flower petals unfurled. If one is going to assume that Harry has already memorized each minute detail of these illustrations, they will be correct in their assumptions. And so, with the flowers' appearance imprinted into his mind, it is quite easy to point out the similarities between the symbols that are on the wax seal and tag to the one on Sonya's letter.

Daffodils.

They were all daffodils.

There's no denying that the three items all hold the same flower. He didn't recognize it at first because of how small the illustration was but _La Jonquille's_ symbol definitely has daffodils on it. The way that it was drawn was also similar to those on the wax seal and tag.

Harry's mind ran a hundred miles a minute. The conclusion that made the most sense to him was also the wildest one that he could think of.

Is it possible that Adhil Blanchet and Draco Malfoy are the same person?

* * *

Harry laid down on his bed and stared at ceiling for hours. His body might be calm and stationary but his brain was busy connecting things and clues that are there. 

If Adhil was Draco, wouldn't he recognize him at first glance? He could never forget the face of someone that has been such a significant part of his life. 

Adhil was and still is a stranger to him.

A stranger whose face gave him an odd sense of familiarity, whose voice was also familiar but different at the same time. 

Harry tried to find Draco – the Draco he once knew – in Adhil. He tried to pinpoint similarities between the two of them only to come up short.

They're both blond and excellent at potions, as far as Harry could tell. They both have a regal and elegant air to them, an air that tells people that their every action is done with grace. That's basically where the similarities begin and end. He cannot contrast their personalities since Harry's idea of Draco is based on years of schoolboy rivalry and the antagonistic interaction that they seem to have every time they cross paths. Indeed, the former Slytherin had already redeemed himself in Harry's eyes – mostly due to the blond saving his life along with everything that he has done before disappearing – but he still don't know Draco enough. He doesn't know him as well as, say, Pansy, Blaise or the rest of the Slytherins that have been on his side the longest. 

Adhil, on the other hand, is an enigma. He's a young Potions Master who seems to dedicate his life on potions and the improvement of both Magical and Muggle medicine. Harry doesn't know who he is, where he came from, his family background, or anything else outside the title of "Potions Master". But Harry could tell that he's passionate. The way Adhil's eyes lit up while he was answering all of Harry's potion related questions brought a smile to the Auror's lips. He exudes the energy of a man who is content with his life. Someone who has found his calling and is living every single day doing what he loves.

Harry found himself admiring Adhil's life.

He wonders what it feels like to wake up every day knowing that his job is something he is truly passionate about. If he was going to be completely honest with himself, being an Auror isn't giving him the satisfaction that it usually did. Most of the time, he's stuck at his desk signing paper work for solved cases. There are still some days when he gets called into an exciting case where he can do what he does best: chase the bad guys. However, that opportunity rarely comes. He's been thinking about becoming a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts but there are currently no job openings for the position and he's kind of nervous about what his friends and family would say. After all, being an Auror was expected of him. Not to mention the fact that he has already been an Auror for a decade. 

Wouldn't it be a waste for him to leave a stable job that allows him to help people just so that he can 'follow his indecisive heart'? Then again, Harry doesn't need to work a day in his life to provide for himself and his family. He has all the Potter and Black vaults at his disposal. The Potter fortune alone can grandly and comfortable sustain his, Teddy's, and Andy's life.

Great. Not only is he confused about Draco and Adhil's identities but Harry is also having a crisis over his own occupation. 

Harry breathed in deeply to organize his thoughts. For now, he pushed the idea of quitting the Auror force to the back of his mind. Instead, he sets out to figure out just why the Masidec glowed in the shop and if his hypothesis about Draco and Adhil being the same person is true.

* * *

"Will you settle down? Your pacing is giving me a headache." A voice drawled from the wall on the right. Adhil turned to glare at the portrait of his godfather.

"I am having a crisis, Severus," He said, running his hands over his face. "I think I deserve to pace out of frustration!"

The portrait of Hogwarts' deceased Potions Master and war hero settled on the velvet arm chair painted in his frame. He took the book that's on the table near him and flipped through the pages nonchalantly.

"This is about Potter, isn't it?" Severus Snape said after a few moments of silence.

"How did you--"

"It was a wild guess but it's amusing to know that I am correct." The dark haired man said, briefly looking at his godson before shifting his attention back to the book that he's holding. "So, has he managed to find you yet? I do remember you mentioning in a letter from Ms. Parkinson that Potter is the one in-charge of your case."

Adhil let out a frustrated sigh. He then sat on a nearby arm chair facing the portrait.

"He's here," He began. "In France. In Lyon to be exact. He even came here… in this house a few days ago."

Severus said nothing but he was surprised enough that he closed his book in favour of listening attentively to what Adhil was about to say.

"He went to the shop yesterday and I have a feeling that he knows who I am. Well, I think his subconscious does." The blond continued, his mind flashing with images of Harry keeling over in pain. Adhil's hand went to clutch the pendant hanging from his neck. It was his mother's, given to her by Grandmother Druella when she was still just a baby and she passed it on to him when he was born. The pendant was actually a simple round locket. It was silver and had daffodil and vine patterns inscribed on it. Inside, it held a small picture of him with his parents. Adhil rarely opens the locket to look at the picture. Even after all these years, seeing his once happy family still brings a sting to his chest. Besides, it wasn't the picture itself that is important but the enchantments that have been laced through the locket. These enchantments have brought him peace fo five years. Peace that he finds himself willing to risk to have his friends and remaining family back into his life.

"How can you tell?" Severus asked.

"Sonya told me about that thing – a pendant or a talisman – he's wearing. It was glowing…and when she pointed it out to him, his head started to hurt. It must be his subsconscious fighting against the enchantments of my locket." Adhil explain before scoffing. "He's not even here on official Auror business."

"What do you mean?"

"Pansy told me that he just went and filed for a week long leave. Which means, if he does figure who I am, he doesn't have the authority to drag me back to Britain."

Another moment of silence passed between the two of them.

"He certainly doesn't think of you as just another case to be solved, that's for sure." Severus said after a few seconds of contemplation. He then breathed in deeply before speaking in a softer tone, reserved for moments in which he knows he has to get through his godson's stubbornness. "Maybe it is time, Draco…"

"I'm happy here. " Adhil – Draco – said, his voice even but not entirely convincing. "I'm safe here. No one knows who I am. I help people. They don't see me as a Malfoy anymore."

"You have established a respectable and admirable career, yes." Severus argued. "But at what cost? Instead of upholding the name of Malfoy and restoring its former glory, you abandon it in favour of being a wizard with no past, no family, and no friends. 

You are still young, Draco. You've already redeemed yourself. How many medicinal breakthroughs have you had that aided in the treatment of hundreds, if not thousands, of Muggles? 

You have suffered alone enough. Your friends have moved on from the war, they too have redeemed themselves. If what Ms. Parkinson said is to be believed, they are now friends with those Gryffindor brats which means the Wizarding World likely doesn't treat them like dirty anymore.

Let yourself live, Draco. You do not deserve to spend your years alone. Be with your friends, your family. You still have your aunt. She'll accept you wholeheartedly."

Draco doesn't say anything. He just sighs. This is how Severus knew that he has finally won their argument that has been going on for a long time now. The blond just slumps on the arm chair, seemingly exhausted.

"It's funny..." He murmured after some time. "It's funny how it took Potter being in France to convince me to finally creep back into friends' lives."

"It seems like your fates are intertwined no matter how hard you try to run away from it." Severus commented, sitting back on the armchair. "You have always been obsessed with him and I do recall a time when that feeling was mutual."

Draco remembered that time too. Sixth year. Potter followed him around everywhere. He held back a wince at the memory of him lying on the bathroom floor, bleeding while Moaning Myrtle screamed bloody murder.

Their lives were intertwined indeed. Draco saved Potter's life. Potter saved his life. Draco helped him defeat the Dark Lord by giving Potter his wand. Potter testified for him during the trials. 

He had hoped that by going away, he can cut himself off from Potter's roots but fate wasn't so easily dictated. In Draco's absence, his and Potter's friends have became friends as well. Potter is godfather to Draco's cousin. They will always be connected no matter what happens.

That thought made Draco's heart flutter. He doesn't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing.

In the end, Severus convinced him to tone down the enchantments on his locket a bit. Draco figures that it wouldn't split Potter's head into two anymore but, by weakening the spellwork, he risks the Auror finding out who he is easier. 

* * *

A few days later, Harry has come up with a plan. He has extended his leave for another week. He didn't ask around nor did he threaten anyone for information. Instead, he wrote two letters to two people. One is to confirm what he already knows – or atleast, what he thinks he already knows – while the other one is to ask simple questions. Simple questions that would greatly help him. His brain is still a bit muddled and confused but throughout the days, he realized that thinking about Adhil and Draco being the same person has become easier.

With that knowledge in mind, he set out to put his plan into action. The said plan being just spending more time with the Potions Master and basically just winging it until he gets the right opportunity to ask who Adhil really is.

The young Auror is currently standing in front of Adhil's house. It was the early morning and the sun was shining brightly. He raised his hand to knock on the door when something caught his eye. When Harry first visited the blond's residence, he failed to look closer at the details of the brass knocker but now that the sun is shining directly on it, he couldn't help but notice the imprinted patterns on the metal.

Flowers. More flowers. More daffodils. And roses. This time it was roses that came with the daffodils and not baby's breath flowers. The roses were shaded compared to the daffodils that are only drawn as outlines.

Daffodils seem to be a constant theme when it comes to Adhil and, if Harry's hypothesis is correct then he knows the exact reason why.

Harry didn't get the chance to knock on the door because it suddenly opened to reveal Adhil. Or Draco. Draco as Adhil. 

"Pot…Harry." Adhil greeted in a surprised tone. The blond clearly didn't expect Harry this early in the morning. He was all dressed up too and ready to leave the house. He looked quite dashing in Muggle clothing. Harry figured that Adhil's white shirt, grey pants, and black trench coat ensemble can be considered as casual but he still felt underdressed in front of him.

"Adhil," Harry greeted back, his mouth forming into a smile despite the hammering of his heart in his chest. This time, he didn't need Sonya to tell him that the Masidec is glowing as it hung from his neck. "Going somewhere?"

"I don't see why that's any of your business." Adhil said dryly, obviously trying to hide his surprise behind a mask of indifference with a little bit of snobbishness.

"Perhaps I can join you…?" It came out as more of a question than a suggestion.

"I'm only going out to eat breakfast. There's really no need for you to…" The blond trailed off then sighed. "Fine, you can join me. But you're paying for your meal, Potter. Knowing your stubbornness, I wouldn't be able to get you off my trail if I say otherwise."

"Back to Potter now, are we?" Harry teased, his lips quirking to the side in amusement. He felt giddy. Perhaps it's from the idea that he has finally found Draco or maybe it's from the prospect of spending time with the blond. Or both? He doesn't really know. For now, he'll just go with it. 

"Shut up, Potter….Harry." Adhil muttered as Harry stepped backward to let him pass through. The clicking noises sounded as the door locked itself.

The two wizards walked along the sidewalks. They passed by the square of Place Sathonay as they headed towards the café on the side opposite from where they came from.

"So," Harry began in an effort to break the slightly awkward silence that's forming between them "What did you mean about my stubbornness? It's not like we've known each other for long…unless…"

* * *

Draco's head snapped to Potter's direction.

"Unless what?" He asked, trying not to sound alarmed. The other man just shrugged as he kept walking. They both remained silent for the rest of the journey to the café. It was a bit tense and, by now, Draco is almost a hundred percent certain that Potter knows who he is. He is just confused as to why the Auror isn't saying anything about it yet. Maybe it's still the locket at work.

"It's nice to see you again." Potter suddenly said as he went to open the café's doors for Draco. The blond looked at him in shock but quickly composed himself before entering the establishment.

The scent of coffee beans and pastries hit both of their nose the moment they stepped inside. Draco couldn't help but take a deep breath to inhale the delicious aroma of the shop. He rarely comes here – perhaps only twice a week at most and only if he's really craving for chocolate biscuits – and he wishes he had the time to stop by more often. 

The café itself was quite modern, similar to those commercial coffee shops that Muggles seem to love so much. It had floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the morning sunlight to energize the patrons. However, one part of the wall was lined up with numerous bookshelves that customers can either buy or borrow.

Draco went straight to the counter and ordered the usual: a large hot caramel macchiato and three chocolate biscuits. He was just about to reach pay for his food when an arm reached from his side and slid a €50 bill on the counter. 

"I'll have an iced Americano, please. I'll pay for his order as well. Thank you!" Potter said, stepping to stand by his side. Draco looked at Potter with furrowed brows and face scrunched in an expression of both shock and confusion. The barista, on the other hand, looked at them with amusement. 

"Ah, Adhil, you did not tell me that you've got a boyfriend!" The barista, Emilia, said in French. Draco thanked his lucky stars that Emilia can't speak English because the situation is bizarre enough as it is. He did not need Harry to know that people assume that they're lovers.

"I didn't," Draco muttered. "I have just gained a clingy…acquaintance."

"Well, he is cute. And for that, I'll give you an extra biscuit." 

Draco smiled awkwardly at Emilia, thankful but also not wanting her to make further comments about his love life.

* * *

"This is good!" Harry exclaimed as he took a bite of the free chocolate biscuit. He and Adhil are now sitting by one of the huge windows of the café. The blond said nothing. He merely took a sip at his coffee and watched him with curious eyes. "What?"

"Why are you here?"

Harry shrugged picked up his drink before sitting back and drinking from it. The two of them are now face-to-face, just watching each other. Harry took this opportunity to study the other man's face. Despite his rational mind already knowing the truth, he still couldn't place Draco's name on Adhil's face. He basically has to drill into his brain that yes, Adhil and Draco are the same person. He has to believe it. He finds himself doubting that belief even as he looks at Adhil but he only has to glance down at the Masidec's light blue glow re-affirm those doubts.

"What's that thing on your chest anyway?" Adhil asked, breaking the silence between them. "It has been glowing for quite some time now. Is it going to explode?"

Harry wandlessly casted a Muffliato charm to prevent the Muggles from hearing what they are not meant to hear. He then held up the glowing pendant of the Masidec to his face.

"This is a Magical Signature Detecting device. The Masidec for short," Harry explained, ignoring the snort that came from Adhil. "Couldn't we have picked a better name? Sure. But functionality won over creativity. And this little thing is why I'm here, right in front of you, Adhil or perhaps I should call you Draco?"

* * *

Draco cannot deny.

The years have been more than kind to Harry Potter. He has filled up quite well, no longer the scrawny specky git from Hogwarts nor the broken hero right after the war. Of course, he has seen him quite a few times before he packed up to France but the Potter that's sitting in front of him right now is the more mature version of the Potter from five years ago. The Gryffindor seems to age like fine wine. His hair was still messy but it's an almost effortless, suave look. There was a light stubble on his chin and jaw, making Draco wonder what it would feel like to hold Potter's face in-between his hands and stroke his cheeks with his thumbs. Those eyes are as piercing as ever despite being behind the same round glasses that Potter has always worn. They are most striking shade of green, just a tad darker than emerald. He can still remember looking straight into those fiery green eyes as he offered Potter his friendship… and got rejected.

In short, Potter looked good and Draco is having a hard time controlling the feelings that he thought he has long buried. 

"This is a Magical Signature Detecting device. The Masidec for short," Potter started to explain. Draco let out a snort upon hearing the name that they've given to the necklace or, should he say, device. "Couldn't we have picked a better name? Sure. But functionality won over creativity. And this little thing is why I'm here, right in front of you, Adhil or perhaps I should call you Draco."

Luckily, Draco chose not to take a sip from his drink at that time or else, he would've immediately spat it out. Instead, he looked at Potter with a shocked expression once again.

"P-Pardon me?" The blond spluttered. He had a feeling that Potter already knew who he is but he didn't think that he would directly and bluntly reveal that he does. "Draco? Draco Malfoy? You must be mistaken, Mr. Potter."

Potter shrugged.

"I might be," he said simply, setting his drink down on the table. "But I don't think so. Your face is still unfamiliar to me but I've…talked to several people and I've seen clues, Adhil…Draco. I've seen clues and have put them all together."

"You're barking mad."

"Am I? At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if I am. I've been looking for Draco Malfoy – for you – for five years!" The Auror exclaimed that last part, throwing his hands up in the air. "I've had absolutely NO leads for the better part of those years! Did I take a smidgen of a hint and thought that it'll lead me to him...to you? Probably. But I'm here aren't I? At first, I was disappointed that Draco Malfoy wasn't the one to greet me at the door of your house but once Sonya noticed the Masidec glow in your shop, that's when I started to suspect the truth.

Now, I would very much appreciate it if you stop whatever enchantment you've got going on because, I swear to God, my head is about to explode from all of these conflicting thoughts."

Potter was panting lightly by the end of his tirade. His face was painted with frustration and his hand reached up to lightly rub his temples. Draco's locket must still be working but only barely.

The blond looked at the Auror with a blank expression and a tensed jaw. Despite the Muffiliato charm, he knows that they're creating a little bit of a ruckus in the middle of this Muggle establishment. Draco doesn't know what to do. Deep down, he knows that he's dying to finally be who he is. Severus' words was resonating inside his head. While Adhil was the name that gave him glory, his own name – Draco – was given to him by his mother. His name and the locket that he's wearing are the only things from his mother that he can hold on to and damn it all if he's going to let go of either. The Malfoy name may be no more, their fortune distributed to those who deserve them, and their properties having the same fate but that doesn't mean he can't redeem himself as Draco, son of Narcissa…and Lucius.

With those thoughts swirling inside his head and with Potter's fiery green eyes piercing through his soul, Draco decided that he's had enough of running and hiding away.

* * *

Adhil…or Draco stared at Harry for a long time after the latter's outburst. He was beginning to wonder if the blond even heard what he said but before he can speak, Draco…or Adhil abruptly stood up.

"Come with me." He said, turning around and heading out the door. His drink and food were left to be forgotten. Harry caught sight of Emilia who was behind the till and glaring at him. The Auror shrugged and smiled apologetically before following the other wizard out the door. 

Harry thought that they were heading back to the blond's house but, instead, they went towards the square. Adhil was swift on his feet and Harry couldn't help but think that if he wasn't an Auror, he would definitely have a difficult time catching up to the Potions Master.

The two of them finally settled on a bench in the middle of the deserted Place Sathonay, just a few metres away from the statue.

"I apologize. I wasn't really comfortable having this conversation with so many Muggles nearby," Draco said, arms and legs crossed. He took a deep breath while Harry calmly sat beside him, not saying anything and letting the blond lead the conversation. A fluttering feelung was starting to form inside his chest at the idea of him being correct in his theory that Adhil is indeed Draco. "How do you know? What gave you the idea that I am who you think I am?"

"The flowers." Harry said before reaching into his pocket and fishing out a small vial of Headache Relieving Potion. "Sorry, my head is starting to hurt again."

"What?"

"Well, there's a lot of things. Most of them make no sense but it's the flowers that helped me." Harry continued after he downed the contents of the potion vial. While he spoke, he stared straight ahead. He found the sigh of the fallen leaves calming and not looking at Draco helped both his headache and his reasoning. His brain isn't as torn between believing that Draco is Adhil and not believing that they're the same person. "You seem to like daffodils a lot. It's everywhere. Your shop's logo has them. Your tea cups have them. Your letters have them."

"Letters? Potter, I've never sent you letters--"

"I'm talking about the letters from five years ago. The one you addressed to me." Harry clarified. This time he reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a worn-out looking envelope. Its wax seal was already open. Inside, it held several pieces of paper and a small tag. He handed them over to the man beside him.

"What…" Harry heared his voice trail off. He figured that the blond was examining the contents of the envelope, starting with the wax seal that had a daffodil imprinted on it.

"They all have daffodils on them, drawn in similar if not the exact same way. Your shop is even named The Daffodil." Harry continued. "A simple research was all it took for me to find out that daffodils are also called 'narcissus'. Quite close to Narcissa, don't you think?"

A sharp intake of breath.

Silence.

"If…if you think that I'm going to drag you back to Britain, I'm not. The Ministry doesn't even know I'm here."

"Then why?" Draco asked. 

"I wanted to thank you." Harry answered simply, leaning back on the bench. This time he spared a glance to the blond's face but quickly looked away before the confusion starts to settle in again. It was just a quick glance but he did manage to see the other man's stunned expression. "If you're really who I think you are, I owe you a lot. Not just my life but my family too. You don't know how much it meant to me to actually be named Sirius' heir and...call Teddy and Andy my family."

"I…"

"And I also wanted to make sure that you're alright." Harry added. "We're all living good lives now but I didn't know for certain if you were still alive or if you accomplished what you set out to do. I can't help but think that maybe if I did more for you and your mother that maybe she would still be alive and you wouldn't feel the need to leave."

Harry expected a response but was instead met with silence. He took a deep breath and faced Draco…or Adhil…or whoever it was that he's talking to right now. He faced the other person and looked straight into their steel grey eyes. Eyes that, Harry could tell, were shining with multitudes of emotions that he cannot discern. Shock? Absolutely. Fear? Maybe. Confusion? Perhaps.

When the Auror spoke, it was in a pleading tone.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. I'm not going to force you to go back to Britain. I'm going to declare it as a cold case, if you want. I'm not going to ruin the peace that you've already built for yourself here but I just need to know...I need to know if I'm right. Please."

* * *

Potter was looking at him with pleading eyes. It made Draco's resolve crumble until it was no more. Potter said it himself. He just wants to know the truth. If he tells Potter to leave him alone he probably would.

_Or maybe he wouldn't. Do you really want him to leave you alone? In this country where you have no friends and no family._

Draco heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. The two of them sat in silence for a quite some time before the blond finally spoke.

"Yes," He said so quietly, not willing to risk anyone hearing his words despite the square being relatively empty. "I am Draco… Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

It has been so long since Draco uttered his own name. The last time he said it his voice was filled with hatred as he wanted nothing more than to erase his own existence. However, as he sat in the middle of France, five years after he decided to start anew, he found it easier to speak the name his mother gave him out loud and to, once again, claim it as his own.

* * *

Harry breathed a huge sigh of relief as the words left Draco's mouth. That utterance alone cleared the fog that seems to have clouded up his mind. However, he still doesn't recognize the face that's staring back at him. The blond seems to recognize the look of confusion that has taken over Harry's face.

"I am not about to reveal my full identity in broad daylight, Potter."

"But how do you do it? Is it the necklace?"

Draco only hummed in response.

A little while later, Harry and Draco sat in front of each other in the latter's kitchen with cups of tea on the table in front of them. The way that they faced each other was quite similar to when Harry first went here but it also felt more intimate.

Harry was just about to say something when he saw Draco wandlessly summon a bottle of brandy from one of the kitchen cupboards – one that's just above and behind Harry's head – and poured quite a lot of it into his tea cup. 

"Don't look at me like that," the blond said without sparing a single glance at Harry. Instead, he took a sip of the spiked tea. "It's been a long day and it's only…10AM. I didn't plan on revealing who I am but here you are. The literal embodiment of my past coming back to bite me in the arse."

"I don't think that's true."

Draco looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"I think that you want to be found…" the Auror clarified. "For five years, none of us heard from you but then your gift suddenly appeared out of nowhere."

"Normal people wouldn't try and find magical traces in a gift, Potter." Draco tried to argue. "That's borderline obsessive behaviour."

Harry shrugged.

"It led me to you, didn't it?" He then picked up the cup of tea from table and took a careful sip. The Auror's brows perked at how perfect the tea is made. It tasted like how he would make it at home. Early grey with two sugars and a splash of milk. Harry looked at Draco. "How did you know?"

"How did I know what?"

"How I liked my tea."

"I saw how you made it from your first visit, of course." 

"I have brunch with Luna and Pansy every week but even they couldn't get my tea right. They usually just let me make it myself. You would have to have been watching me closely, Draco." Harry teased, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smirk as he watched the blond's ears redden as it always does when he's a bit flustered. How did Harry know that fact? He doesn't know. Or he knows but he's not about to acknowledge his obsession right now. "So, the necklace?"

Draco clutched the locket in his hand, feeling protective over it.

"It was my mother's…" He said, voice calm and even with a hint of nostalgia. "It's a locket given to her when she was just a baby and it's the last thing I have that's hers. I enchanted it so that no one will recognize my face while I'm wearing it."

"So, a glamour?"

"No," the blond answered simply. "The face that you're seeing right now is my face. The face of Draco Malfoy. Your mind will just be unable to make that connection between the face and the name."

"Doesn't that mean that I wouldn't even be able to suspect that Draco and Adhil are the same person?"

Draco heavily sighed. 

"Exactly but when has the usual or the normal ever applied to you?" He said in an exasperated tone. He then gestured to the Masidec still hanging from Harry's neck. "I figured that it has something to do with that trinket of yours."

"Oh, yeah." Harry said, holding the Masidec's pendant in his hand as he watched Draco's silver magic dance around inside the hollowed crystal while the rest is enveloped in a soft blue glow. "Ron and George made it. They actually got the inspiration from you."

"From me?"

"Yeah, from those enchanted necklaces you gave Luna and Pansy as wedding gifts." Harry elaborated, taking the Masidec off and placing it on Draco's outstretched hand. The blond examined it closely, even picking up his wand and tapping it in random places. "They think that your spellwork is a work of art. Hermione even said that you were a genius! Or was it Ron? I think it was the both of them which was surprising. Well, not the part that you're a genius because I know you're smart and talented. It was obvious back in school. You were a git, yeah, but still a…smart and…uh…talented git. Yes.

Did Harry get flustered at his little rant there? Perhaps. He [feels] flustered, his neck and cheeks a bit too warm for his liking. He quickly picked up his teacup and drank from it in an attempt to hide his fluster behind the porcelain cup.

If Draco noticed Harry's weird behavior, he didn't say anything about it. Instead, his focus was on the Masidec that's currently floating in front of him. Every so often, he would let out a soft hum either as if he's contemplating something or he's satisfied by that something.

"So, you and your Weasleys created this…device just to find me?" Draco asked, voice sounding confused, weirded out, and hopeful all at the same time. 

"Actually, no." Harry answered sheepishly. "It was first used to solve a particularly nasty case a few weeks ago. The Missing Wizards case? A witch kidnapped a handful of wizards and muggles, chopped them up, and transfigured them into various muggle objects. The Masidec was crucial in capturing the criminal and tracking down all the transfigured body parts."

"Oh."

"But I wouldn't be able to find you without it! And we got the inspiration from you so, I guess you helped us find…you?"

"Perhaps."

Their conversation went to different directions after that, swerving into various topics that took them farther and farther away from the discussion of whether or not Draco will ever take off his enchanted locket. Harry didn't mind too much though. He's determined to keep his promise to not force the blond into doing something he's not keen on doing. Besides, he likes talking about his family and friends and sort of updating Draco as to what has been going on in his absence.

"Teddy's starting Hogwarts next year," Harry mentioned. "Everyone thinks that he's going to be Slytherin or even a Gryffindor but I think he's going to be a Hufflepuff."

"How are they?" Draco asked. "Edward and Andromeda?"

"You can call them Teddy and Andy, you know." Harry replied, rolling his eyes. "Anyways, they're doing quite well. Andy and Pansy are taking the Wizengamot by storm. Bills that will protect magical creatures and muggles are nearly on their last readings and with Kingsley as Minister, it is only a matter of time before they become actual laws."

The Auror saw a soft smile tug at the corner of the blond's mouth.

"That's good."

"I thought you knew about it. You often write to Pansy, don't you?"

"Not very often. Once every two months maybe. And I've only started writing to her a year ago." Draco explained, standing up to return the bottle of brandy to its proper place himself. "She's still quite cross with me."

The blond didn't sit back down on his chair though. Instead, he walked a little bit to the side and leaned his body against the kitchen counter. 

All Harry did was watch him. Stare at him. Try to make the connection between Adhil's face and Draco's name. But he can't and it's starting to frustrate him. He wants nothing more than to rip off that damned locket from the blond's neck, along with it the effect of the enchantment. He can't do that though. He'll sooner get his ass hexed off than even get close to the locket. Besides, the necklace was pass on to Draco by his mother. It's a family heirloom. Probably the only family heirloom that he has after burning the Manor to the ground.

Harry pushed away any thought of aggression. Instead, he stood up and leaned his own body against the table to face Draco.

"Why did you write me a letter?" The Auror asked, getting back into more serious topics. "Out of everyone you knew why me?"

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Weren't the contents of the letter enough, Potter?" He retorted. "I was feeling sentimental, grateful even. Extremely melancholic."

"What made you think I was unhappy? Why did you tell me to control my own life?"

"Isn't it true?" Draco rhetorically asked with a sneer on his face that was awfully familiar to Harry. "Aren't you just in the Auror force because it's what's expected of you? The Golden Boy, Defeater of Dark Lords, the boy who was chased down by dark wizards all his life decided that chasing more dark wizards is the perfect life for him! I may be wrong but that is fucking ridiculous. You deserve a quiet life where you have nothing to worry about except taking care of the next generation of Weasleys."

"Ginny and I aren't…together."

"See! Wait what?"

"Ginny and I aren't together…? We haven't been together for a long time."

"Oh." Draco said, seemingly stuck at finding the next words to say.

"You can't tell me how to live my life, Malfoy." Harry hated how easy it was to say the blond's name with such disdain as if the two of them are rivals once again. Maybe the venom that his tone held is because of how close Draco actually got to how Harry actually felt. None of his other friends seem to realize what the blond did. Perhaps they did realize it but they were just too afraid to tell him or they thought it wasn't their place to point it out.

Draco didn't care about any of that though. He spat out things so frankly and ruthlessly no matter what the other person might feel or think.

"Fact check, Potter," Draco spat. "You don't look happier now compared to five years ago. Heck, I'll even go as far as eight years. Stuck with a desk job, are we?"

"I'm the Head of the Investigation Department."

"Glorified desk job then."

"Why do care about my happiness, anyways?!" Harry's loud voice echoed around the decently sized kitchen. "Why do you care if I'm satisfied with my job or if I'm doing shit just because other people expect me to?

"That's exactly the point isn't it?!" Draco nearly shouted back. "Why the fuck do I care? Oh, probably because I can see and hear how the Wizarding World is still giving you shit while you run around and do their bidding!"

That caused the slowly rising anger in Harry's chest to quickly fizzle and die down.

"What?" He asked, looking at the blond with a dumbfounded expression.

"The Ministry walls have ears, Potter." Draco said simply after taking a deep breath to calm down after his outburst. "Everyone is basically waiting for the day that you go insane and become the next Dark Lord. They have blackmail material, tons of it, as well as a 'contingency plan' of some sort for the day that you actually become Dark. They even have your fellow Aurors and some Unspeakables to watch you at all times."

"But that's ridiculous!" Harry exclaimed, his anger slowly returning but this time it's towards the people that Draco is referring to. "Voldemort killed my parents. He deprived me of a the life that I could've had, a family that I could've had! I'm not about to be like him!"

"Luckily, Pansy has already handled everything."

"Pansy?"

"Yes. And, before you ask, no. I am not going to divulge the details. You might interrupt her work." Draco answered. "Clearing your name from any speculations and ensuring that you live a relatively peaceful life whether or not you do become the next Dark Lord is just some of the favours that I asked Pansy to do in-exchange for the Malfoy fortune."

Harry was frozen in place. Quite shocked. Not really surprised that the Ministry has a "safety net" plan when it comes to him but feeling disappointed and betrayed nonetheless.

"That's…" The Auror breathed out, suddenly feeling deflated. He can always question Draco's truthfulness but, given the situation, Harry's inclined to believe the blond. "That's fucked up. The war's been over for ages…"

"The Ministry aren't going to stop being bigots just because the Dark Lord is gone." Draco said, matter-of-factly. "There will always be another one that will rise whether it be right now, two years from now, or even a century from today."

Harry stood there in silence. He didn't know what to say next.

"Do you think that I'll…turn dark? Become a…dark lord?" He asked after a long silence. It was a ridiculous question but he had to know. Ron and Hermione will flat out tell him no but Draco was honest. Well, atleast the blond is not about to sugarcoat things.

"You have the potential to." Was Draco's answer. "You have the power. You can have the following if you want to. You just need a cause."

"But I don't want to." Harry murmured, growing worried. He really doesn't want to be what the Ministry is expecting him to be.

"Then don't." Draco said, looking at him straight in the eye. "At the end of the day, it all comes down to you and your decision. You have to stop letting expectations dictate your life, Potter. You'll be happier. Start doing whatever the fuck you want to do. At this time, take a page out of MY books."

"Do whatever the fuck I want?" Harry started to say as he pushed himself off the table and slowly walked over until he was face-to-face with the blond. Draco looked at him warily. "Anything?"

"Anything." The other man replied, sounding a little bit breathless as he and Harry were now roughly two feet apart.

"Then, can I do this?"

* * *

Draco's first reaction was to recoil from the pair of hands that reach out to him. Was he going to get strangled to death? That was his initial thought. However, he calmed down a bit when Potter grabbed the chain of his necklace. He calmed down a bit but it was immediately replaced with a spike of fear and panic.

"Potter." The blond warned, gripping the Auror's wrist to try and stop him from doing what it was that he was about to do.

"It's okay…" Potter said softly. "I want to see you, to recognize you again."

"You might hate me again."

"I won't, I swear."

Draco let go of Potter's hand, letting him remove the necklace that he has worn for the better part of the last five years. 

The blond closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

He stood still until he felt the chain go over his head, leaving his neck bare and his chest surprisingly light.

He braced himself.

* * *

Harry set the necklace down on the counter behind Draco. He then looked at the face in front of him.

Finally.

 _Finally_. 

Harry was breathless for a moment as his mind finally caught up with itself, as he finally recognized whose face he was staring at. 

His eyes scanned every single detail on Draco's face: from the strands of platinum locks that fell over his forehead to the slightly upturned nose down to his lips that looked so soft, Harry almost wanted to touch them. 

It was almost as he remembered it all those years ago but also quite different. Not only did Draco looked more mature but he also looked healthier and happier. Gone were the dark purple circles under his eyes and the sunken cheeks that Harry can still vividly remember from the Pensieve memories. In their place were the features of someone who looked like they were getting adequate sleep and nutrition, someone who has long moved on from the terrors of their past and have chosen to live their new life.

Harry found himself longing to see Draco's eyes. Steel grey eyes that stared at him in recognition back to what seemed like a lifetime ago. Eyes that recognized who he is but refused to sell him out, refused to let him be murdered. 

Back then, those eyes looked at Harry with a mixture of recognition and fear. This time, he wants to be looked at in an entirely different way. 

Harry couldn't help it. 

His hand reached up to cup Draco's cheek. The blond immediately stiffened, surprised at the sudden physical contact but he also relaxed once Harry started to caress his cheek with his thumb.

"It's really you…" Harry breathed out and his breath was so close to Draco's face that he just had to open his eyes. 

The look that met him wasn't that of hatred. No. It was far from that. Quite far from that. Draco didn't want to assume but Potter looked at him with such relief and admiration. It made his heart skip a beat. It caught him so off guard that he almost forgot to breathe.

It feels like an overexaggeration but Harry felt the world stop when those grey eyes finally looked back at him. They were more beautiful than he remembered them to be. 

They were currently looking at thim with shock and confusion but, beneath that, Harry can detect something that he failed to see years ago: life.

Draco was clearly in a better place now. He has moved on from the war and has made a life for himself. He found his calling and purpose.

"It's me..." Draco murmured and his voice sent a jolt throughout Harry's body. He now recognized the blond's voice too. It was so familiar but so different for it lacked the acid that it usually possessed whenever the two of them spoke to each other in the past. It was softer and calmer although it did have a hint of nervousness that Harry just wants to melt away. 

"I found you." He whispered, still entranced as his other hand came up to cup Draco's other cheek. "You're you…"

"I'm me." The blond restated, the corner of his lips quirking up into a nervous smile. "And you don't hate me…?"

Harry let out a chuckle but it was really more of a huff.

"I haven't hated you for a long time." He assured. His eyes flickering over Draco's features until they finally settled on the blond's lips. 

He still wants to touch them.

And so he did.

Harry's thumb went over to caress Draco's lower lip, revelling in their fullness and softness. He heard the blond's breath catch and felt him froze up. 

Did Harry overstep his boundaries?

"I'm sorry…" He said as he started to step away from him but before he can move back any further, hands gripped his wrists and pulled him back until he's flushed against Draco's firm torso.

"You absolute fucking idiot." was the last thing Harry heard before soft lips met his.

* * *

_End._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will always be grateful to everyone who has given this fic a chance. Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> There's only the EPILOGUE left and we're OFFICIALLY DONE with "La Clarté"!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated~ 💖
> 
> If you have questions regarding anything or if you want to check my writing progress, you can always reach me through these links:
> 
> CC: [ ysaintlorraine ](https://curiouscat.qa/ysaintlorraine)  
> Twitter: [ @ysaintlorraine ](https://twitter.com/ysaintlorraine)


	7. Epilogue

_**EPILOGUE** _

_Three years later…_

Earl Grey tea and chocolate biscuits.

Those were the first things that Harry Potter got a whiff of once he opened the front door. His lips immediately quirked into a soft smile as he imagined the scene that's already waiting for him. 

"Draco?" He called out from the foyer.

"Here." A familiar voice replied from the living room. He walked over to where the blond was and found him lounging on the sofa, going through their mail. A cup of tea and a plate of chocolate biscuits sat on the coffee table in front of him. Harry set his bags on the floor beside the sofar before walking over to his boyfriend and pressing a soft kiss on his temple. "How was the trip?"

"It was fun!" Harry replied, sitting beside Draco and forcing the blond to hook one of his arms over Harry, allowing the latter to cuddle up against him. "Luna enjoyed the birthing part. She's a natural at it. She's basically a Mediwitch for creatures."

Draco let out a chuckle as he imagined the petite blond woman dragging a hundred pound winged-foal out of its mother. 

"How about you? What did you get up to?"

"Me? Well, I…I helped the mother calm down." Harry answered, looking back at the time when he was just beside the mother winged-horse, patting and caressing the side of its body to get her to calm down. "She got so antsy in the middle of it that we were afraid she was going to fly off. But luckily, we managed to calm her down with massages and potpourri."

"Potpourri?" Draco asked, tone filled with amusement as he continued to go through their mail. Harry could almost hear the smile on his face.

"Luna's suggestion. Apparently the smell of flowers help their nerves." Harry explained before he caught sight of a familiar handwriting on one of the envelopes that Draco is filing through. "Wait, is that a letter from Hermione?"

Harry sat up properly and waited for Draco to open the letter.

_"Dear, Harry and Draco_

_How are you doing? Thank you for the gifts you sent us! Ron demolished that entire box of biscuits in a flash but I managed to get one. It's so good! Do you think Emilia can send her recipe?_

_We're so excited for the two of you to meet Rose! She's such a spritely baby, always smiling and giggling. I'm teaching her a bit of sign language so we can figure out what she needs._

_Her hair is currently bright neon green though. Ron said that it's accidental magic. I have a suspicion that she got a spoonful of George's new Rainbow Fudge candies._

_We miss you a lot! (Yes, Draco. That includes you.) We're so excited to have you back even if it's only for a short while._

_Kingsley is still begging me to convince you to go back to the Aurors. As if you'll listen to what I say, Harry._

_See you soon and we love you,_

_Hermione"_

"You reckon we can bribe Emilia for the recipe?" Harry pondered after they've both read Hermione's letter. "Or should we just bring them tins of cookies?"

"Emilia is very protective over her 'secret recipe'. I asked her about it once, you know what she told me?"

"What?"

"Over my dead body!" Draco exclaimed in a high-pitched voice with a thick French accent that made the two wizards laugh. 

"Three tins of biscuits then." Harry said once they've calmed down.

"It's a letter from Aunt Andromeda." Draco said, singling out an envelope with a purple wax seal.

"You know she told you to call her Andy." Harry said, poking Draco's side. "Aunt Andromeda makes her feel 'ancient'."

"What does she mean ancient? She's as radiant as the sun!" Draco argued, already opening the envelope. Aside from the folded parchment, it also held a photograph that the blond gave to Harry.

It's a photograph of Teddy during his first Quidditch match. He looked charming in his Hufflepuff Quidditch robes. They figured that it was taken by Ginny who was still working as the flying instructor at Hogwarts. 

Harry remembered feeling nervous during his first match but Teddy didn't show a hint of that nervousness. His bright blue bubblegum hair clashed badly with the Hufflepuff yellow but it also showed how excited and happy he was to be part of the team.

" _Dear, Harry and Draco_

_How are you, my dears?_

_As you may have already seen, Teddy already had his first match as Hufflepuff's Chaser. I have been told that he scored no less than 50 points during the match! I am telling you now, boys. Hufflepuff will take the house cup this year just with the Quidditch championship alone._

_Draco, I would like to thank you for the Joint Relaxing Potion that you sent. It worked wonders for my arthritis. I can now continue with my crocheting and gardening._

_Harry, the construction for Grimmauld Place is going well. It's nearly done and I can say with full confidence that the orphanage will be up and running next year._

_We are thrilled to have you for Christmas this year! Little Rosie is such an angel and you will absolutely adore her. She looks just like her mother but with red hair, of course._

_It's too bad Sonya wouldn't be able to come with you. Maybe next year?_

_Be sure to stay warm, both of you. I love you and take care!_

_See you soon,_

_Andy."_

"I guess now we have to get Teddy that new broom we promised to get him." Harry commented, reaching over to grab a chocolate biscuit and eating it in two bites.

"Plebian." Draco muttered, rolling his eyes. "You got crumbs all over the sofa, Potter."

"Why am I 'Potter' everytime I do something?" Harry mumbled as he dusted off what little crumbs he could find. "What do you think we should buy for Teddy? The Firebolt Thunder 2000 or the Tornado 1000? I heard that they're both very good."

"Well, The Firebolt is better when it comes to speed and acceleration." Draco said, weighing in the two options. "However, Tornadoes have proven to be very durable. It's not as fast as the Firebolt but they say that it can last for more than a decade with proper care. And really, what need does a second year have for a top speed professional level broom?"

"But I had a Firebolt back at Hogwarts too. Teddy will crush every game with it!"

"You spoil him too much, Harry."

The raven-haired wizard shrugged.

"I just want the best for him."

Well, if it isn't Draco's weakness: Harry Potter kindheartedness and his desire to give so much to those he loves.

The blond breathed in deeply before sighing in defeat.

"Fine. We'll get him the Firebolt." Draco said making Harry smile so bright and wide that it made the blond's heart flutter like it just grew wings. 

Roughly three years into their relationship and he's still as smitten as the first day he realized that he has a crush on a certain green-eyed specky git. Draco felt like he was floating on clouds when he found out that the feeling was mutual and has been mutual for quite some time before Harry even made his way to France.

They could've been together for far longer than three years but Draco will never regret his decision to leave Britain. He's still happier here and now he has Harry with him, his friends back in his life, and his remaining family by his side too. 

It was a bit awkward letting people know that Adhil Blanchet doesn't really exist and that he's been Draco Malfoy all along. However, they still value his talent and expertise above all else. Healer Vartan has even admired his decision to turn over a new leaf.  
  
Overall, Draco's life is going swimmingly well.

There's only one thing that's worrying him though.

"Harry…" He called out after a few moments of relaxed silence.

"Hmm?" His boyfriend said around another mouthful of biscuits, looking up from the stack of papers that he was going through. 

"I'm…I'm just wondering if…" Draco stumbled, contemplating on whether or not he should actually say what's on his mind or just keep it to himself. "Nevermind."

"Hmm? What is it? Are you okay?" Harry started to ask a bit frantically, looking over Draco and scanning his body for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine," the blond assured him. He then took a deep breath and finally said the thing that has always been at the back of his mind. The thing that he purposefully ignored for a long time but he can't do that now because they're going back to Britain and they should really get this thing out of the way. "Are…are you sure you're happy here?"

"What?" Harry asked, both shocked and genuinely confused. "What do you mean? Of course, I'm happy here!"

  
"Sometimes, I just feel like I've taken you away from everyone," Draco continued. "Your friends, your family… your home."

Harry sat up straight and properly faced the blond.

"You're my home now." He said, cupping Draco's cheek in one hand and using his thumb to softly caress it. The blond couldn't help but lean into Harry's gentle touch. "Besides, you're the one who told me to follow my heart."

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes.

"That's way too sappy. I told you to do whatever the fuck you wanted to do."

"Same thing," Harry shrugged. "And here I am, following heart and doing what I want."

"Which is what, exactly?"

"Just being with you."

"Fucking sap." Draco muttered pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss. 

Harry thought that Hogwarts was his home. It was for some time. It was his first true home. A place that accepted him and shaped him into the person that he is today.

He thought that Grimmauld Place was his home. Not really. It was just a place for him to stay that connected him to Sirius and thus, the rest of the Black family but it was now going to be a home for children who deserve to be loved. Not his. 

But this right here, being in Draco's arms in their house in France despire being a thousand miles away from their family and friends, this actually feels like home.

That evening, as Harry and Draco lay down next to each other, Harry also expressed something that he's been thinking of for a long time now.

"Draco? Are you awake?" He murmured, turning his body to face the blond who was currently blinking sleepily at the canopy of their bed. If he wasn't awake before, he's awake now. They always sleep like this. They would just lay down together with a bit of space in between, but would always end up gravitating towards each other until they're all snuggled up in the other's warmth.

"Hmm?" Draco answered a bit groggily but he also turned his body to face Harry.

"You know how I went on a trip with Luna last month? To see the herd of Kelpies in Scotland? And how we went to see the winged-horses just this week?" Harry began, pushing off the strands of hair that fell over Draco's face and tucking them behind his ear.

"Yeah…?"

"I think that's what I want to do now. Travel the world to study magical creatures."

"You want to be a Magizoologist?" Draco clarified, blinking away the last remnants of sleep. "That's great, Harry."

"Yeah. But Luna often goes away for long periods of time." Harry said, sounding skeptical and a bit nervous. "Her trips can take up to six months."

"Isn't that good though? The more time you spend with the creatures, the better you'll get to know them."

"Yeah, but how about you?"

"What about me?" Draco asked with furrowed brows, moving his arm to let his head rest on his hand so that he can look at Harry more comfortably. 

"We won't get to see each other…"

"Oh." 

"Yeah."

There was a long bout of silence as the blond contemplated this while Harry just lay there watching him nervously. He was just about to say something to break the tense silence when Draco sat up. He took a deep breath and looked at Harry with a serious expression.

"Are you a hundred percent certain that this is what you want to do?" He asked. "Not eighty-five nor ninety-nine but a one hundred percent?"

Harry sat up and faced Draco before he nodding and mumbling a soft "Yes".

Draco took Harry's hands in his and held it firmly.

"Harry, if that's what you want to do, I'll support you 100%." He said softly, "I'm not about to hold you back from doing something you truly want. I stand by what I said all those years ago. Control your own life. You're the only person who can do that. I'm here to support you, not dictate nor stop you. Besides, it's not like you're going on a suicide mission to fight off another Dark Lord. I know that you'll be back to me, safe and sound."

"Dragons can be as harmful as Dark Lords though…" Harry mumbled, earning him a slap on the arm from Draco.

"You better take care of yourself, Potter. I will personally slice you if you don't come back to me in one piece."

Harry chuckled and pressed a soft kiss on Draco's forehead.

"Of course," He said. "I'll always come back to you. Thank you, Draco. I love you."

Draco's heart skipped a beat as it always did whenever Harry would utter those three words. He smiled and said those same words, knowing that they also had the same effect on Harry as they did on him.

"I love you too."

* * *

_Two weeks later…_

>   
>  **DRACO MALFOY RETURNS TO BRITAIN!**
> 
> Eight years after his disappearance, Draco Malfoy was spotted in Diagon Alley yesterday with none other than Harry Potter who has quit the Auror force no less than two years ago and has since lived a private life.
> 
> Where the lone Malfoy has been, the Prophet has no idea. Requests for interviews have been denied by both parties. Although, this reporter can say that there is something going on between the former school rivals judging by the way that they walked closely next to each other.
> 
> Are they friends or something more?
> 
> We asked Love and Body Language Expert Filippa Manoleli about it!
> 
> (Turn to page 12 for more details)

* * *

**_The End._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! Oh god. Thank you so much for everyone who has stuck with this story! I'm so grateful to each and everyone of you. 💖
> 
> You all mean so much to me because this fic is the VERY FIRST multi-chaptered that I've finished. It's such a milestone for me. Your comments have kept me going whenever I feel like I'm not a good enough writer.
> 
> I hope you'll look forward to more of my works in the future! 🥰
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Thank you for supporting "La Clarté"!
> 
> CC: [ ysaintlorraine ](https://curiouscat.qa/ysaintlorraine)  
> Twitter: [ @ysaintlorraine ](https://twitter.com/ysaintlorraine)


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